


More rose, one remains

by Congar



Series: One falls anthology [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Endgame, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, True Ending Spoilers, Underground, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 107,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Congar/pseuds/Congar
Summary: A new chance with new opportunities. The same path lies before us, but our boots are different. Many question have been answered, but more have been asked. How will our humans do this time? Will they abuse their knowledge or will they try to make a better world for all? Time has been spooled back and is now ready to unravel once again. Let's see what this timeline holds.





	1. Once again, but this time different

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 2 of the One falls anthology.  
> It is recommended to read the part 1: [One falls, more rise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746278/chapters/15416806) before proceeding.

Aofil peeks their head out the window. "Undyne, before you start, could you collect the cut grass in the corner that's not occupied by the apple tree."

Undyne nods with a smile before conjuring up a scythe. "Grass, you have three seconds to shrink before I make the decision for you!" she threatens as her scythe cracks with magical energy.

To her credit she did give the grass three seconds before descending upon it with a maniacal laugh and an endless lust for a properly maintained lawn. Aofil laughs at the spectacle and cheer on Undyne whilst cleaning the dishes. Upstairs Papyrus is fighting a similar battle with the dust rabbits.

"I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO EXPEL YOU FROM THIS HUMAN'S DOMICILE! OBEY MY COMMAND, OR FACE THE WRATH OF THIS CLEANER OF VACUUM CHARACTERISTICS!" he states with a prideful voice that finds its way down the flight of stairs and into the kitchen.

Aofil empties out the dishwater and places the last plate among its brethren. They fill two water bottles and bring them to Alphys and Frisk.

“Oh, h-how did you know?” Alphys ask as she is handed the water.

Aofil gives the other bottle to Frisk. ”I just thought that you might want to have something to drink.” They smile to Alphys. “Call it a gut feeling,” they wink to Frisk.

“no water for me?” Sans enters. ”i know that i’m a skeleton, but i still like to have a glass from time to time.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder, “my bro wanted to talk with you, alphys.”

Alphys tilts her head curiously. ”Me? Why me?” She pushes up her glasses. “What could Papyrus want with me?”

Sans puts his thumb back into his jacket. “i don’t know, didn’t ask him.”

After some thinking on Alphys’ part she stands up and waddles out to the hallway and up the stairs. Sans slouches down on the dusty sofa and some dust flies up.

Aofil sees Sans’ hand emerge from his pocket. ”If you’re gonna run your finger against the top of the sofa and then blow away the dust I’m gonna smack you,” they firmly inform the skeleton.

Sans' hand stop and snuggles back down into his pocket. “see, this is why i asked alphys to leave.”

Aofil fetches a chair from the dining room. “Didn’t Frisk explain?” they shout back into the living room. ”Or is there anything else you’re wondering about?” Aofil places the chair in front of the sofa and seat themselves on it backwards with their arms hanging over the back. ” Because I sure as hell am. So, do you want to start or should I?”

Sans glances at Frisk before clearing his throat.

“You don’t have to be so dramatic about it,” Aofil comments.

“it all started with me making a promise to a door,” Sans starts as he leans even further back into the sofa. ”the promise turned out to one of my less brilliant of moves, believe it or not.”

“How so?”

Sans snaps his finger towards Frisk. ”this one right here, or, as they told me,” he retracts his hand, “the one in their head.”

Aofil nods. “Your old acquaintance.”

“yup, we had a, confrontation, of sorts.”

Frisk walks away.

“I guess things didn’t end very well between you two.”

Frisk puts their hands over their ears.

“is it ok if i spare you the details?”

“Sure.” Aofil scratches their arm as they remember the Flowey fight. Their scars may not be there physically now because of the reset, but Aofil still feels them. “I’m sure I can survive without them.”

“good, because frisk didn’t tell me.”

“Oh, you don’t remember it?”

“there was something nagging at the back of my head when i first saw them,” Sans explains with a flurry of his hand. “when i first remember seeing them,” he corrects with an upraised finger. “they told me what happened, and that this time they would save us. they stayed true to their word and i was inclined to believe them.”

Sans nods towards the hunched up kid. “frisk saved us, frisk saved us all. i’m not sure what made their change their mind or if they managed to push back the voice in their head.” He sits up straight. “speaking of that, you said you were family with them.”

Aofil nods again. “Yup, I’m their twin, curse and all. Apparently.”

Sans tilts his head up. ”what curse?”

“Don’t you remember?” Aofil snaps their fingers. “Oh, right, you weren’t there, at the trial.”

“trial?”

“You know, the trial,” Aofil tries one more time.

Sans’ pupils shrink leaving only two dark holes in his head. He turns to Frisk. ”so, you did it again.”

Aofil steps in between Frisk and Sans with a stern foot and leg. “Frisk didn’t do it just for giggles. They had no choice. It was a,” Aofil pauses as images before the reset flash before them, “it was a slaughter, everyone was dead. Frisk had to reset. I don’t know how I would live otherwise after seeing Toriel crumble in my hands.”

Sans pupils return. “dang, sounds like they had a good reason.”

Aofil sit themselves down again on the chair and runs a hand through their hair. “You have no idea how much I wanted to throw myself into Toriel’s arms when I saw her today.”

“we’re you two,” Sans giggles to himself, “close?”

Aofil throws a disapproving look towards Sans. “She melted away in my hands.”

Sans tone drops. “oh, i see.”

“I still want to do it, but I don’t know how she’ll react.”

Frisk tightens their grip on their own legs.

“Heck,” Aofil smiles. “I even wanted to hug you, Sans, despite everything.”

“and what do you mean by that?”

“Let’s just say that you’re easy to see through, my bony friend, more so now than before.”

Sans throws up his hand flats up over his shoulder. ”what can i say? i leave an impression.”

The sound of the void blasting Sans into dust returns to Aofil. “Yeah, you can say that. So, what now? We continue? Should I do the same things I did or?”

Sans shrugs. “no idea, guess that is up to you.” He jerks his head towards Frisk. “frisk chose to save the monsters after their reset.”

“I mean, I’ve already improved your brother’s cooking,” Aofil chuckles. “so I guess that I’m on the same path.”

Sans nods, and falls asleep.

Aofil walks over to Frisk and sit down to Frisk’s level. They put a careful hand on Frisk’s shoulder, and Frisk seats themselves on Aofil’s knees.

“Listen, Frisk, is Chara still there, with you?

Frisk puts a hand on their chest and nods.

“Can I talk to them?”

Frisk shakes their head.

“Can you talk to them?”

Frisk shakes their head again.

Aofil nods weakly. “I see...” They think quietly for a bit. ”What should I do now? This reset, what does it mean for me?”

Frisk smiles and gives Aofil a hug. Aofil returns it.

“Alright, kiddo. I understand, I’ll be good.” They put down Frisk. “So, you’ve done this before? This reset thing?”

Frisk wrings their shirt and looks down.

“But you did it to be good?”

Frisk looks up at Aofil with pleading eyes and nods. Aofil picks them up again. Frisk grips the back of Aofil shirt. “Don’t worry, Frisk, I believe you, we all do,“ Aofil comforts with a rub on Frisk’s back. “From what I’ve heard you’re the sweetest angel there is.”

Aofil drums on Frisk’s head a bit after saying that though. “But, even angels have their dark sides, right?” They feel Frisk grip tighten. “That is in the past though?” Frisk nods into Aofil's shoulder and Aofil puts them down again. “Or the future? I don’t know, this whole reset thing is messing with my head.”

Despite that they ruffle Frisk’s hair playfully. “Still, good to know that you used your power for the better. Thank you, again.”

The patio door opens and Undyne steps in, sweat and grass covers her body. A blue scythe dissipates as she enters. "Mind if I use your shower?"

Aofil releases Frisk. "Would I have to fight you if I said no?"

Undyne smiles and a couple of straws fall off. “You humans do that? You fight for the right to shower? Cool!”

Aofil breathes through their teeth as they realize their mistake. ”Oh, um, no, I mean. You’re the leader of the Royal Guard and all, I thought you’d appreciate my joke.”

Undyne stretches and more grass flutters down on the kitchen floor. “Can’t remember telling you my job.”

Aofil body tenses up and their head conjures up a myriad of lies to try to save the situation, but none is good enough. They hum in panic.

Undyne stands up and lifts her arms up over her head before shaking herself loose. “But I think I know why you did?” She flexes and laughs heartily.

Aofil’s sigh of relief could knock down trees and they laugh with Undyne. ”Yup, only a high ranking officer could cut grass this elegantly.”

Undyne rolls her shoulder. “Does that mean that I can use your shower?” she asks again.

Crisis averted! Hopefully. Aofil nods and motions for the stairs. “Go right ahead.”

Undyne nods and heads up to the upper floor. Aofil shakes their head. Too close.

“Gotta be careful,” they sigh out. “Did you have the same problem with talking about things you remembered, but they didn’t, Frisk?”

They get a blank stare in response.

“Right, sorry.”

They both return to the living room as Alphys steps in.

“Sans, Papyrus said that he didn’t send for me,” she asks the sleeping skeleton.

“he likes to have company when he cleans,” Sans answers with his eyes still closed.

“So why weren’t you with him?”

Sans nestles back into the sofa. “you ever try to sleep with a vacuum cleaner next to your ear?”

“Sans, you don’t have any-”

“because it sucks,” Sans interrupts.

Alphys face sinks into a tired frown. She shakes it loose and waves over Frisk. ”Toriel said that we should finish your homework.”

“They’re here?” Aofil asks. “Toriel and Asgore? Aren’t they at the,” Aofil manages to catch their mouth in the last second, “at the, uh, I don’t know.”

“Upstairs?” Alphys asks with a perplexed look.

“Yeah, upstairs.”

“Yes, they are.”

Aofil nods with a sheepish smile. ”Good.”

“Anything you wanted with them?” She points to the roof. “I mean, you can see where they are.”

Aofil looks up and sees that the roof is bending from Asgore and Toriel’s combined weight. “Oh, would you look at that. Not sure if I like that this is happening. Still,” they give Alphys a thumbs up, “now I know.”

Alphys looks at Sans, and then at Frisk, and then back at Aofil, still with the same foolish grin. ” Y-yeah, now you know.”

Aofil nods deeply. “Yes I do.”

An uneasy silence hangs in the air for a couple of awkward seconds. “Excuse me for a moment,” Aofil asks of Alphys before leaving for the kitchen. There they curse their stupidity as quiet as they can. They debate whether or not to smack their head with the frying pan so that they can forget and be on equal footing. They decide against it, but only barely.

“did something kitch your eye?” Sans cracks as Aofil returns.

“No, I just had to do something.”

“really?”

“Yeah, something human.”

“and what would that be?”

“For being a skeleton without one,” Aofil taps theirs, “you’re very nosy, Sans.”

Sans giggles and returns back to sleep. Aofil seats themselves next to Sans.

With a hairband in her teeth Undyne rounds the corner from the hallway. ”Hello, nerds. You’re doing your homework, Frisk?” She mounts the band in her hair. “Already? Can't Toriel give you a day or so?”

Frisk and Alphys nods without looking up.

“See, Frisk, you need to carry the two,” Alphys reminds Frisk. Both their heads are deep in Frisk’s homework.

Undyne rolls her eye and falls down on the sofa, causing Sans to jump in the air a bit. She slides down until her neck is on the edge of the back.

“I’m bored,” she says after a while. She huffs and her fingers starts wandering on her leg. She attacks them with her other hand, but she abandons it quickly. Her fingers instead tap gently on her leg. They move in a way that’s familiar to Aofil. They look up at Undyne.

“You never told me you could do that,” they half accuse with a half disappointed look.

Undyne stops mid crescendo. ”Do what?”

Aofil nods for the hallway. “Follow me.”

Undyne follows with a mix between confusion and anticipation.

The basement is quite stuffed. A darkened spot indicates where Asgore’s sofa used to be. Aofil flicks the light switch and Undyne follows them down the stairs.

“Sorry that we took your sofa, Asgore didn’t want to risk ruining the one in the living room,” Undyne explains, “it looks very expensive and the one down here wasn’t that fancy too be honest.” She flashes a worried smile. “Not that the one down here was ugly or anything it was just that,” she backtracks.

Aofil laughs and waves it off. “Don’t worry, Asgore promised to compensate. Help me locate it.”

Undyne peers over the unsorted sea of stuff. “Look for what?”

Aofil smiles at Undyne. “The piano.”

Undyne’s eyes explode with glee and her mouth stretches a smile across her entire face. She grabs Aofil by the shoulders and lifts them up to her face. “You didn’t tell me you had a freaking piano!”

Aofil blows Undyne’s hair out of their face. “You didn’t tell me you could play!” Undyne puts them down. “After all this time.”

Aofil fails to catch their mouth again, but Undyne’s too busy scanning for the piano to notice.

“Look for a white sheet,” advises Aofil as they help with the search.

“I see it!” Undyne exclaims. “It’s in the back.”

“Great, let’s clear a path so that we can move it without scraping,” Aofil suggest.

“We?” Undyne rolls up her sleeves. “Watch and learn, whelp.”

She pushes the, to her, debris out of the way and the sound it makes forces Aofil to cover their ears. Undyne is unfazed and marches on, creating a ravine of old furniture and boxes. She rips off the sheet covering the piano and dust falls down like confetti before a concert.

She runs her hands gently over the lid and when they reach the end she opens it. She plays a couple of notes and shakes her head in disappointment. She opens the top and to her delight she finds a tuning lever. She closes the top and walks around the piano.

Aofil is a bit taken back seeing their old piano floating in the air. Strained exhales comes from it and Aofil scurries up the stairs. They’re soon followed by the piano and Undyne.

“Where do you want it?”

Aofil moves a table out of the way in the living room, and with a silence that’s out of place, Undyne places it down with ease. She wipes off her forehead before rubbing her hands in anticipation. She grabs a chair and leans into the piano and begins her tinkering.

“HUMAN! YOUR HOUSE IS NOW HALF CLEANED!”

Undyne jumps as the voice comes from right behind her. Her head hits the top of the piano and it falls down on her. She massages her head and snap her eyes to Papyrus. She pouts her lips in frustration, but Papyrus just smiles at her.

“WOW, A PIANO! DID YOU BRING YOURS WITH YOU TO THE SURFACE, UNDYNE?” Papyrus asks with his hand on his chin.

Undyne lunges at Papyrus and they end up brawling on the floor. Aofil runs to the shelf and holds it up as a stray shoulder hits it. It sways, but they manage to keep it up. They look to Alphys for help, but she’s curled up with Frisk, and her own tail against the sofa. Aofil calls for Sans, but they only get a snore in response.

A stern hawk freezes the fighters in place. They turn to the source of the voice and see Toriel with her arms crossed and her look even sterner than her voice. Asgore walks up to her a moment later.

“Asgore, your ‘Royal Guard’ is destroying the human’s home. Get them under control.”

Asgore looks at the destruction, a ruffled carpet. Toriel came just in time, Undyne and Papyrus were heading for the shelf again. He straightens out the carpet with his foot, with Papyrus and Undyne still on it. Undyne scrambles up on her feet and salutes. Papyrus follows suit.

“Undyne, new chapter,” Asgore reminds with a fair but disciplining voice. ”No destroying of the human’s property.”

Undyne takes a knee. “Yes, my king. Sorry, my king.”

Papyrus kneels as well. “YES, FROM ME TOO!”

“Good, continue with what you did.”

“MY KING?”

“Yes, Papyrus.”

“I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO RETURN TOO!”

“Besides scaring me on purpose?” Undyne snarls.

“Why don’t you help Toriel with preparing the dessert?” Asgore suggests.

Papyrus salutes again and marches into the kitchen. Undyne walks over to the piano again, mumbling something about Papyrus and her spear. She dives back down the piano to continue her tuning.

“Wasn’t really that bad,” Asgore whispers to Toriel. She huffs in response and makes her way to the kitchen.

“You done with your homework, my child?” she asks over her shoulder to Frisk.

Frisk nods as they climb out of Alphys embrace. Alphys grabs a chair and pulls out a manga from her lab coat.

“Shall we prepare the tea then?”

Toriel takes Frisk hand and joins Papyrus in the kitchen. Aofil carefully releases the shelf and sighs out their relief. Asgore nods to himself and returns upstairs.

“did it go this well the first time?” Sans comments as Aofil lands heavily on the couch.

“I don’t know if I like this reset.”

Sans eye harden on Aofil.

Aofil puts up their hands. “I’m kidding, relax.”

The sound of out of tune piano keys, annoyed grunts from Undyne, and a busy kitchen stays in the house for a good while before Undyne slams down the top of the piano with a grin. She runs her hands across the piano keys and laughs excitingly as they’re all in tune. She sits down in front of it and pops her fingers and neck. Aofil and Alphys lean forward with eager suspense.

One finger massages a key, and then another. The fingers on her other hand count the elevated keys before finding the right one. Both hands play in harmony, and a serene melody emerges from the dusty instrument. Her fingers dance on the ivories and her body moves with every note played. Her eye drifts close as she becomes one with the music. The tempo shifts and her movements becomes more rapid. Her fingers press down harder and the sharper tones increase in volume.

The kitchen is silenced as Undyne’s art fills the house. Her fingers seem to move on their own, each one finding the right key without any guidance from Undyne herself. Her body tenses up and her arms move in bursts. Still, she hits all the right notes.

A brief pause hangs in the air before Undyne shoulders sinks. Three heads peek around the dining room corner. Undyne’s eye opens and a concerned expression blossoms on her face. Despite the afternoon sun filling the room with glistening light as it bounces off the piano, the mellow song coming from the piano drowns the room in dread and worry. The song speaks of something terrible, yet it is beautiful, and among the sad notes is a feeling of warm nostalgia.

Undyne scans her hands to make sure that the hope stays alive, how small it may sound. She lowers her head as she feels the dread taking over. She fights it valiantly, but she knows that it is a losing battle. Despite that she continues to fight. Her audience watch her in silence as they see her exhausting herself to keep the hope alive. They wish that they could help her, but they also know that this is a battle she has to fight on her own and that they’re powerless to help her.

Asgore enters the room and his eyes locks with Toriel’s. She shakes her head quietly, and returns her focus Undyne. Asgore does so as well.

As Undyne’s arms grow weak there’s a pause. She looks around and force herself up from her hunched over position. A determined grin breeds new life into her fingers and with newfound strength they oppose the dread. Like a beacon on a starless night she crushes the darkness with her light.

She weaves her hopes and dreams into the song and the dread whimpers as the inspiring sounds of her playing causes a roaring cheer from her audience. She laughs as the void pleads for mercy and newfound energy embraces her. She once again moves with the notes and every key press sends out waves of joy throughout the house.

She realizes that she’s won and with a final verse of victory she lets the music go back to sleep now that the evil’s been purged. Although the day is saved, the dread still lingers. She ends it with a final reminder that it is all a memory, a distant memory. A final keystroke begs her not to play this song again. She doesn’t know if she can make that promise.

Silence fills the vacuum that’s created after Undyne’s performance. The sound of two small hands hitting each other scares the silence away. The clapping spreads and soon a roaring applause causes Undyne cheeks to blush. She stands up and bows to her crowd.

Aofil leans closer to Sans. “Can I take back what I said earlier?”

“don’t you mean, reset what you said?”

Aofil smiles as they shake their head. “We’ll see, skelebro, we’ll see.”


	2. Storm's a brewin

Toriel lowers her chin towards Frisk. "My child, are you sure that you want to come with us?"

Frisk nods.

"There's gonna be a lot of boring grown up talk."

Frisk grabs Toriel's hand with a steadfast grip.

Asgore opens the door. "Don't worry, dear."

"Asgore," replies Toriel with a cold tone.

"Sorry, don’t worry, Toriel," Asgore ruffles Frisk's hair, "our little ambassador is gonna be just fine."

"Ambassador, eh?" Aofil chuckles.

"Well," Asgore starts.

"Ambassador for the humans to the monster," Aofil asks with one hand, "or for the monsters to the human?" they ask with the other.

"Our ambassador," Toriel corrects.

"I see. Oh, before you leave, there was something I," Aofil snaps their fingers to help them think, "something about you leaving," they tilt their head in thought. "Oh, right."

They fetch the over sized sunglasses and hand them to Toriel.

"Why, thank you," she smiles as she puts them on.

"I thought that after a thousand years underground the sun might sting a bit."

"That's very sweet of you. It does."

"I'll see if I can get you a pair too, Asgore."

He snickers as he sees Toriel's accessorized visage. An eyebrow rises up from behind the darkened glass and he chuckles a bit harder. "I'd love a pair, Aofil. Don’t worry, I'll compensate you for them."

“Speak nothing of it. Good luck with the mayor,” Aofil wishes.

Asgore’s chuckle stops. “How do you know?”

Aofil takes an old cane and thuds it against the ceiling. “Thin roof,” they lie. “You’ve nothing to fear though, my lips are sealed, I promise,” they don’t lie.

Asgore nods. ”Thank you.”

“Again, speak nothing of it. See you at lunch.”

Aofil waves them goodbye and returns to the living room. They stop in the middle of the room, something is nagging them in the back of their head, something they forgot to say. Can’t be the sunglasses, what else?

The sound of wood being scraped causes Aofil’s shoulders to sink.

“Oh, dear,” comments a deep voice.

Aofil walks back to the hallway. Two round holes stare at them from atop the door frame.

“I’m so sorry, Aofil!”

Aofil is forced to try and hide their smile. “It’s OK, Toriel. Don’t worry about it.”

“I, it was these glasses. I didn’t realize,” she promises with a worried voice.

Aofil spots Asgore also trying to contain his own laugh, and they start to lose control over their own grin. They return their eyes to Toriel.

“We’ll compensate you for it. Won’t we, Asgore?” Toriel assures. She turns to Asgore for approval and he freezes up as to not let his laugh escape.

“Of course,” Asgore forces out.

Aofil let’s their smile form a bit to get better control over it. “No problem. Go, before you run late.”

Toriel ducks deeply as she leaves and Asgore follows. Frisk jumps to get closer to the frame, but they don’t get anywhere near. Aofil closes the door behind them and lets their laughter out.

“something grabbed your funny bone?”

“More like, scraped against it,“ Aofil explains as they dry of a tear. “Anything on the agenda today?”

Sans leans further down into the sofa. “nope, yesterday was very hectic so i’m thinking about taking it nice and easy today.”

“A Sans day, fair enough. Where are the others?”

“undyne is”

The sound of water rushing up the pipes in the wall interrupts Sans.

“showering.”

“Figures. Alphys?”

“probably reading while waiting her turn.”

“Papyrus?”

“outside.”

“Doing what?”

Sans closes his eye and his smiles widens. ”why don’t you ask him?”

Aofil shrugs and heads for the patio door.

“Papyrus.”

“YES, AOFIL?”

Why is he?

“Why are you in my apple tree?”

Papyrus’s head emerges from the crown. “SURVEYING!” His head pops back in.

Aofil shakes theirs in disbelief and walks over to the rustling tree. “Pray tell, oh great Papyrus, what are you surveying inside my apple tree?” They sidestep a downpour of leafs as Papyrus’ head emerges once again from the thick crown.

“APPLES!”

Aofil rolls their eyes. “Should’ve guessed. What do you plan on using the apples for?”

“SPAGHETTI!”

Even a blind man could’ve seen that coming.

“YOU SEE, AOFIL! IN ONE OF YOUR HUMAN COOKBOOKS I READ THAT TOMATOES ARE IN FACT, A FRUIT!” Papyrus explains as his mittens pops out from the sea of leaves. “AND SINCE YOU CAN MAKE SPAGHETTI OUT OF TOMATO!”

“You figured you’d cook some with apples instead,” Aofil finishes. Papyrus nods and dives back in. “I’m not sure you’ll find any apples here, there’s two small ones at the back of it but-”

Papyrus jumps down and a small avalanche of apples fall out of his armor. “THERE IS? THANK YOU, HUMAN!”

“Where did you find all of these?” Aofil asks as they pick up a handful of apples. They’re not store bought, that’s for sure.

Papyrus laughs in glee as he picks the apples from the back of the tree. He thanks Aofil, and scoops up the rest of the apples before skipping inside the house.

“No, seriously! The apples, where did you find them?” Aofil tries again, sternly, as they close the patio door behind them.

“I WAS ON A MORNING JOG WITH UNDYNE EARLIER TODAY!”

Uh oh.

“AND I TOLD HER THAT I WANTED TO IMPROVE MY COOKING!” Papyrus explains as he searches for the biggest pot he can find. “SHE LAUGHED IN MY FACE AND TOLD ME THAT YESTERDAY WAS LUCK!” He finds one and places it on the stove. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THANKED HER FOR HER ENCOURAGEMENT!”

The rumbling of apples being poured into the pot catches Sans attention and he enters the kitchen. He looks at Aofil, but Aofil just shrugs.

“WE SAW SOME TREES AND I TOLD HER MY IDEA!”

“How did she react?”

Papyrus finds a potato press and starts working on the apples. “SHE SHOWED HER TONGUE FOR ME!”

“Did she? Really?”

“YES, HUMAN! SHE DOES IT ALL THE TIME, ESPECIALLY FOR ALPHYS!

Aofil feels a smirk form. “Mhm.”

“ALPHYS ALWAYS BLUSHES AND LAUGHS WHEN UNDYNE’S STICKS HER TONGUE OUT TOWARDS HER!” He leans his head on his hand. “IT MUST BE A SECRET HANDSHAKE OF SORTS!”

Sans gives Aofil a worried look.

“Uh, Papyrus, tell you what, I’ll ask them,” Aofil promises with a pat on Papyrus’ back. “so you can focus on your cooking.”

“WOWIE, THANK YOU!”

Sans breathes out and beckons for Aofil to join him in the dining room.

“that was a bit, close. my brother is cool and all, but he’s a bit.”

“Naive?”

“innocent,” Sans corrects with a lowered brow.

“Right.”

A heavy knock causes the front door to shake. “That’s weird,” Aofil thinks out loud. “They shouldn’t be here for at least a couple of hours.”

With a quizzical look that turns into panic Aofil sees people standing outside their door. Angry people. Angry human people. The door knocks again, just as hard, and Aofil rushes to Sans.

“There are humans at the door. Hide!” they stage whisper. 

“humany?”

“I don’t know, three or four. Doesn’t matter, get Papyrus and yourself out of sight. Oh, and tell him to lower the heat. I can smell the apples burning.”

Aofil bolts up the stairs and almost crashes into Alphys.

“Get in there with Undyne!” they again whisper loudly.

“W-what?”

Aofil rattles the handle, but Undyne doesn’t answer. They rush back down and to their delight Sans and Papyrus is nowhere to be found. As they reach the patio they take a handful gravel and throw it against the bathroom window. After couple of increasingly harder throws the window finally opens and the confused head of Undyne peeks out with her wet hair hanging over her face.

“Humans, at the door,” Aofil explains with a risky volume to their voice. ”Get Alphys in there with you.”

Undyne flashes a smile and closes the window.

Aofil throws back the gravel on the ground and breathes out before deciding to finally answer the door.

“Hey!” They’re stopped with one foot inside the house by a voice from around the corner. “I need to talk to you!” Aofil steps back and see the human lawyer from the trial along with two other humans that they don’t recognize.

Not good! What to do? Aofil mind proposes an idea. A very, very bad idea. In fact, it’s horrible, but as the human lawyer walks closer Aofil decides to roll with it. They need to keep their friends hidden, for now.

“Howdy,” Aofil welcomes. The human lawyer stops for a second but shakes the word off.

“There’s been reports of apple thieves in the area, you’ve seen any?”

Aofil shakes their head. “Nope.”

“Really? You sure?”

“What do you mean by that?”

The human lawyer motions for the open window over the stove. ”Because I can smell you cooking apples from a block away?”

Aofil licks their finger and feel that the wind blows towards Mt. Ebott, away from the city. ”Sure. But, unfortunately I have to disappoint you because you see, I bought those apples,” Aofil lies with an innocent smile.

The human lawyer leans on the wooden fence. “Do you have a receipt?”

Aofil puts their hands on the front of their pants with their thumbs inside their pants. “No, I don’t, partner.”

The human lawyer flinches back again, but recovers with a furrowed brow. “So, you’re cooking apples when there are apple thieves around.”

“No, I was just cooking apples. I’ve no idea about no thieves in them here parts.”

The human lawyer face turns sour. “Stop that.”

“Stop what,” Aofil asks with their arms outstretched as they lean on one leg. They tip their imaginary hat, “partner?”

The human lawyer storms around the fence with a burning gaze towards Aofil. “How the fuck do you know about that?”

“Get your friend away from me before I call the police!” Aofil demands as the lawyer closes the distance.

A pair of arms grabs the lawyer by the shoulders. “Come on, let’s go. The thieves are obviously not here. Don’t do anything stupid, let’s go,” they plead.

The lawyer casts a vicious look towards Aofil before turning around. He walks away with heavy steps.

“Sorry,” Aofil whispers out as they close the patio door behind them. They run their hands over their face and sigh in disappointment. Using a dead kid as leverage, that was uncalled for. Idiot. Was there any other way? Aofil draws a blank. The plan worked, but they’re not happy that it did. They lean back on the stove and almost knock over the boiling pot. At least it smells good.

A breeze passes by Aofil. “i take it that they’re gone?”

Aofil nods weakly. “Yeah, they’re gone.”

Sans turns around. “bro, i found the human first. you won.”

Papyrus pops up from underneath the sofa, almost knocking it over. He poses heroically. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM THE MASTER OF HIDE AND SEEK! I SHALL WEAR THIS TITLE WITH DIGNITY AND PRIDE!”

Sans tosses a smile towards Aofil. “isn’t he the coolest?” Aofil is lost in thoughts. Sans snaps his fingers. ”right?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, definitely. The coolest.”

“you alright?”

Aofil sighs. “Not really. I had to do something, not evil, but still unpleasant to get rid of them. Maybe it was a bit evil.”

“care to share?”

“I'd rather not, if that’s OK. I should probably tell Undyne and Alphys that the coast is clear.”

Sans nods and heads over to Papyrus. “how can you hide so good, pap? you’re a skeleton, you don’t have any.”

Papyrus’ woes and Sans’ laughter follows Aofil up the stairs. They knock on the bathroom door and the rushing water is silenced. Wet footsteps close in for the door.

“Are the humans gone?” asks Alphys’ head.

Aofil nods. “Yup.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yup.”

“Good.”

“Did I interrupt something?”

Drops of water splash against the floor as Alphys shakes her head. “No, we were just about done.”

“Oh, OK.”

Aofil realizes that they’re standing there without a purpose and heads back down. The bathroom door is closed behind them.

Papyrus is back behind the pot. He's whistling while stirring and his hips moves in sync with the tune.

“HUMAN, YOU’RE LOOKING A BIT SAD! HOW COME? PAPYRUS ALWAYS HAVE TIME TO CHEER UP HIS FANS! ESPECIALLY FANS THAT ARE FRIENDS!”

Aofil realize that their face is sunk down and they roll their shoulders back for Papyrus. They try to flip their frown upside down as well. “Yeah, a bit, I guess. I just...” Their face sink again. “I did something bad, don’t really know if I did the right thing.”

“YOU’RE A GOOD SOUL, AOFIL! YOU TOOK US IN WITHOUT KNOWING WHO WE WERE!” Papyrus stops his stirring and shakes his finger at Aofil. “I DON’T THINK YOU DID WHAT YOU DID WITHOUT A REASON! NO FRIEND OF MINE DOES THAT!” With a smile that could light up the darkest void Papyrus poses with a presence that blinds Aofil. “TAKE THAT FROM ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS! YOUR IDOL AND NUMBER ONE COOL DUDE GUY!”

Aofil puts a hand over their eyes. ”I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Pap.”

A joyful grunt catches Aofil’s attention and they see Undyne swinging around the golden ornament on the stair’s railing. “Watch this, whelps!” she warns as she lands. She glides towards the kitchen with record speed and Papyrus cheers her on.

Her eyes narrows as Papyrus’ glistening armor reflect the midday sun right into her eyes. She fails to spot the threshold between the hallway and the kitchen and with a noise unfamiliar to everyone’s ears she trips over Aofil.

“i’ve heard of ice skating, but not tile skating before,” Sans comments as he sees Aofil and Undyne clamped together on the kitchen floor. A wet trail leads up to them and Undyne quickly makes sure that her towel is still on her. She breathes out as it is.

Aofil’s nose wrinkles as Undyne smells the same as Alphys did the last time Aofil went tile skating. Do they wear the same perfume? Is it the shower gel? It smells different than what it does when Aofil is using it. Is it because it's being applied to scales instead of skin.

“Human,” Undyne says after a couple of seconds.

“Hm, oh, sorry,” Aofil releases their grip.

Undyne jumps up and gives Aofil a hand. Aofil nods in thanks.

“Papyrus, what did I tell you about your armor?” Undyne asks as she massages the arm she slid on.

“TO KEEP IT NICE AND SHINING!”

Aofil chuckles. “Can’t fault him for that.”

“THANK YOU, AOFIL!”

Aofil closes their eyes as they’re hit by another blinding flash of Papyrus’ armor. “Anytime.”

Undyne’s face is twisted in thought, but she fails to come up with a counter. She instead grabs Papyrus and suplexes him. She then picks up Alphys and runs back up the stairs.

“You alright?” Aofil asks Papyrus.

“YES!” He jumps back up on his feet. ”DON'T WORRY, AS A ROYAL GUARDSMAN IT IS MY JOB TO BE VIGILANT AND TO BE PREPARED TO BE ATTACKED AT ANYTIME! UNDYNE IS GIVING ME SOME GREAT TRAINING! IT MIGHT LOOK DANGEROUS, BUT I SHALL NOT FALTER MY DUTIES!"

Deja vu hits Aofil but they shake the memory out from their head. “Good. I’ll...I’ll keep that in mind.”

Papyrus returns to his pot. Aofil is a bit concerned over the selection of spices Papyrus’ adds, but they decide to give him a chance.

Aofil approaches their bookshelf and with deja vu still present in their head they decide to try something. “You want anything to read, Sans?” they ask the sleeping skeleton. They take the lazy shrug as a yes. “I think I have something akin to ‘I woke up human’.”

“oh, that one’s good.”

“So I’ve heard.” Aofil runs their finger over the book covers. “Aha.”

Sans takes the book with narrowed eyes. “i woke up a monster?”

“A classic, one of the best. It tells the tale of a prince that’s turned into a monster and is cast out of his castle for being ugly,” Aofil explains as they look for a book for themselves.

Sans skims the back. ”mhm.”

“He’s forced to go into hiding, since he’s so ugly,” Aofil continues.

Sans nods. “ok.”

“But, they find another monster.”

“another ugly monster?” Sans guesses.

“Yes,” Aofil nods as they find a book that catches their interest.

“well, you’ve sold me,” Sans smiles out. “i think i’ll plow it through in one go.”

Aofil seat themselves next to Sans. ”Glad to hear it.”

The smell of apples and spices drifts slowly out the stuck window. Papyrus proudly proclaims that the sauce is done and just needs reheating. Aofil motions for the bookshelf and Papyrus picks a book about puzzles. Alphys and Undyne joins shortly.

“You nerds reading?” Undyne asks the party.

Aofil points to the manga she’s holding. “What do you call that?”

Undyne sits down and flicks a page. “I’m not a nerd.”

Aofil jokingly scoffs and returns to their book. “Sure.”

Undyne extends their tongue and Aofil returns a smile.

The party reads in silence and before they know it another heavy knock on the door indicates that it is lunch time.

“Welcome back,” Aofil greets Asgore, Toriel, and Frisk as the trio enters with crouched posture, even Frisk, ”did the meeting go well?”

“It did,” Asgore nods. “Very much so. I’m sorry if I sound a bit demanding, but could I talk to you in private, Aofil?”

“What for?” asks Toriel.

“Just a formality, how much they want to be compensated.”

Toriel narrows her eyes. ”Come, Frisk, let’s start with the lunch.”

She and Frisk leaves for the kitchen.

“Is the upper floor empty?” Asgore asks.

“Of monsters and humans, yes.”

Asgore motions with a gentle hand. “After you.”

The stairs creek as Asgore follows Aofil upstairs.

“Forgive me for lying. When you introduced yourself yesterday, you said that you were family. You also said that you knew us even though we didn’t know you.”

Aofil sighs at their mistake. “I did, didn’t I?”

“I just want to know, what did you mean by that? And how did you know of our names? Please, understand why I’m asking you this. I’m bringing my people back to the Surface and the first human we meet already knows our names and call us family,” Asgore smiles. “I’m not saying that I don’t appreciate your generous hospitality, it’s just not what I expected.”

Aofil looks down. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why, is it magic?”

Aofil nods. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Asgore’s warm and fuzzy hand comforts Aofil’s shoulder. “Human, I don’t know your people’s relation to magic nowadays. If you’re trusting me with a secret of yours, I’ll keep it. But if you could allow me to ask, is magic still in use by you humans?”

Aofil puts a hand over their chest. “No, from what I know, it just runs in my family. We mainly use science nowadays.”

Asgore’s brow furrows. “But, science is magic.”

Aofil’s eyes widen in panic. “Later, after lunch.”

“What do you mean?”

Aofil shakes their head. “No, after lunch. Not when I’m hungry.”

They walk down the stairs, leaving a perplexed Asgore scratching his head.

“You’ve settled for a sum?” Toriel asks as she smooths out the edges of the table cloth. The open window is not doing her any favors.

Aofil holds down a corner. “What? Oh yes, we have.”

She casts her gaze towards Asgore walking into the kitchen. “How much?”

“Enough,” Aofil assures.

Toriel puts a jug of water on her corner to keep it still. “Just enough? I heard what you did earlier. I’ll have a talk with him, don’t worry.”

Aofil puts a plate on their corner to also hold it down from the wind. “No need. Really, it’s OK.”

Papyrus once again informs with pride that the food is done. Aofil is curios as to how it will taste. They helped Papyrus this time too. Sure, he did add the spices himself, but that can’t be that big of a deal. The table is gathered and Papyrus serves it with the same grace and finesse as usual. Aofil rolls a fork with the loosest noodles they can find on their plate and takes a bite.

They realize that there are things not even resets can improve.


	3. Memories of the future

"Time flies, doesn't it? a week ago I was dreaming of what I would say to your leaders when, if, I would return up to the surface, and lo and behold," Asgore pushes a button and the ringing stops, "I'm running late to that very scenario. Now, Aofil, If I return after you've fallen asleep."

He stands up, the sound of hundred springs being relieved of duty following him up, and extends a hand towards Aofil. They get up from their chair and take his hand. The grip is very firm, but in a fit like a glove kind of firm.

The feeling of touching skin on one finger and fur on another is sitting well with Aofil, it's good to know that the accident is in the past, or future. Whatever, they're here, they're alive, don’t try to think about what happened.

“Thank you again for the use of your house and food.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Aofil replies, not surprised over the amount of sincerity they meant.

Asgore releases Aofil’s hand, waves to the rest of the table, and bends down into the kitchen.

“Don’t forget the door frame,” Aofil reminds.

A faint chuckle from Asgore finds its way to Toriel and she frowns.

“Don’t worry, human, I got it,” he promises from the hallway.

Aofil picks up their empty plate and cup. ”If everyone is finished with their tea I’ll continue with the dishes.”

Toriel’s mouth hangs open. Her face curls up and Aofil realizes that they stole the words right out of her mouth.

“T-that’s awfully nice of you, human, but I’m more than happy to do it.”

“You’re my guest, Toriel. It is custom to take care of one’s guests.” Aofil picks up Sans’ plate. “What kind of host would I be if I expected my guests to do my chores for me?”

“didn’t papyrus clean your upper floor?”

“Well, he-”

Undyne hands Aofil her plate and cup. “And I mowed your lawn.”

“What you did to the grass was not a chore, Undyne. I should charge you judging by the amount of fun you had slaughtering my yard.”

“Ngahahaha, I like you, human!” Undyne locks the plate between her fingers. “Let’s spar sometime.”

Aofil taps their head. “Can’t, doctor’s order.” They wrestle the plate from Undyne’s grip.

“You’re injured?” Toriel wonders worryingly as she hands Aofil her dishes.

Aofil notices a faint green glow in Toriel’s hand. “It’s OK, I promise.”

“Then why did you tap your head?” Undyne asks as she leans her head on her chin.

“I hit my head pretty badly a long time ago. You can’t see it now, but it was pretty bad, I almost died. Then something amazing happened, something that flipped my world upside down. Everything I knew about my world, everything I knew about me, changed in an instant. Well, not really an instant, but you get my meaning.” Toriel, Undyne, and Alphys nods. Sans snores in acknowledgment and Papyrus offers Frisk his lap. “Anyway, I also met some great friends, they were a lot like you now that I think about it.”

“I’d love to meet them, if that’s fine with you, Aofil?” Toriel asks with a warm smile. “tThey sound like wonderful humans.”

Aofil scoffs as they take a seat, their knees feel weak all of a sudden. “Yeah, they were.”

Toriel face sinks into worry and she puts a hand over Aofil’s. “Were?”

Toriel’s thumb caresses Aofil’s hand. Aofil smiles as they feel Toriel’s warmth again. Her smooth fur, her comforting smile.

They want to think that it is the same, but they can’t get the images out of their head. The fiery landscape, Toriel’s body lying still on the ground, fading away. Her essence falling through Aofil’s fingers, the desperate grasp grabbing nothing but dust, the last of her.

She died in Aofil’s hands, yet, here she is, caressing the same hand, with life and hope flowing through her. Can Aofil ever put that behind them, can they ever look into this Toriel’s eyes and not see the lack of life that the other had? No, she's not different, she's the same, she's Toriel. Just like the one that died. But, no, she’s here, alive. Aofil lifts their head up and meet Toriel’s comforting expression.

Toriel feels Aofil’s struggling as they fails to hide their sharp breathing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been curious,” she says with a gasps. She lets Aofil rest their chin on her hand. Aofil leans into it. “You don’t have to say anything more, human. I’ll not pry anymore.”

A tear runs down Aofil’s cheek. “They, they died. They died in my hands. I killed them.”

“Human, no, come here,” Toriel invites with her warm and motherly arms. Aofil embraces her.

“I killed them,” Aofil whimpers out.

“You didn’t kill them.” Toriel gently tilts Aofil’s head up towards her. “I don’t know what happened, but you’re not a murderer, Aofil.” She dries off a tear from their chin. “You’re not someone I could ever picture a murderer,” she smiles. “I know this, something’s telling me that you’re a wonderful person, and I’m inclined to believe it. Whatever it was, it was just an,” Toriel’s eyes lose focus and she blinks to try and find a way back, “it was just an accident.”

The room is silent. Toriel tries desperately to find her way back to reality, but her muzzle wrinkles. “It was just an accident, my child.”

Aofil sits up and dries off their red eyes. “Toriel?” They wave their hand in front of Toriel’s face. Nothing.

A small hand tugs desperately on Toriel’s dress and Frisk manages to yank Toriel back down from her memory. She shakes her head, “Oh, forgive me,” and stands up while asking for the plates from Aofil. They hand them over, and she collects the rest of the dishes. She takes a breath to stabilize her voice. “Undyne, Alphys, help Papyrus clean this floor. You too, Sans. Not the kitchen though, I can take care of it,” she demands with authority. It catches the table off guard.

Undyne beckons for Alphys and Papyrus. “The queen asked us to clean. Sans, let’s go.”

Sans yawns and Undyne rolls her eye before lifting Sans over her shoulder. “starting with me, huh?”

“Y-you alright, Aofil?”

“Yeah, Alphys. I, I just need a minute. I’ll join you in a bit.”

The lizard tries to comfort with a clumsy smile. She feels that it fails and she waddles after Undyne. Aofil sinks down on their clamped knuckles and stare out the open window.

They stop Frisk with their hand. “Can I talk to you?” Frisk nods and Aofil picks them up on their lap. They then run their hands over their face. “How?” Aofil shakes their head. “How did you do it? Seeing them again, knowing them and them not knowing you,” Aofil sighs heavily.

Frisk looks towards the kitchen and lowers their head.

“Does it get any easier?”

Frisk shrugs.

“Did any of them,” Aofil focuses their strength for the last word, “die?”

Frisk keeps their head low and nods very faintly.

“Why am I asking you about this? You’re a kid. This is all so wrong. I’m sorry, Frisk, but I need to know. Seeing them alive again, does it get any easier?”

Frisk shakes their head. Aofil opens their arms and Frisk welcomes the offer. They both share a moment, as fallen humans, as humans with friends that don’t know that they are friends. Friends that died in their hands. The moment is long, very long, but it is necessary.

It is eventually interrupted by the sound of a vacuum cleaner.

“Alphee, you do the sweeping. Papyrus, dusting. Sans, carpet. Me, vacuum,” Undyne orders and the house is once again filled with commotion. Their life, their happiness, it seeps to the fallen humans and surrounds them. They both hear Undyne and Papyrus’ laughter. Alphys’ humming. Sans’ snoring. Hearing their friends alive, hearing them be happy, it fills the fallen humans with hope.

Aofil scoffs out their last sorrow., “Shall we join the others, Frisk? Our friends? We’ll make them our friends, again. Together.”

They both wipe the moisture off the others face.

The thoughts of the past, future, whatever, fades away as Aofil and Frisk help their soon to be again friends with the cleaning. The life radiating off of them pushes away the memories, but Aofil still feels their presence. The memories are silenced, but not forgotten.

Papyrus explains to Aofil that dusting is a lot like cooking spaghetti, “IT’S ALL IN THE WRIST!” and like a boiling pot of spaghetti he stirs the dust covering the bookshelf. It glimmers in the sun as it flutters down.

Alphys sneezes as some make it to her. She readjusts her glasses and tries again to get her broom under the leather sofa. “Undyne, c-could you?”

The sofa almost knocks Alphys on her chin as Undyne lifts it up effortlessly. “I have to get you into shape, Alphee!” Her laughter shakes the sofa, “This is nothing,” and more dust is loosened

“Alphys, look out,” Aofil bolts towards Alphys as her head is just under the vibrating sofa. She tilts it up as she hears Undyne failing to hold in her sneeze. Aofil drags Alphys away at the last second before Undyne loses her grip.

Toriel’s head and furrowed brow is thrown around the kitchen corner as the sofa crashes back down. She sees Aofil inspect the floorboards underneath the sofa and casts a glare at Undyne before returning.

Aofil bangs on the floorboards with their fist. “I think they survived.”

Undyne massages away the sneeze. “Sorry, Aof. You too, Alphee.”

“D-don’t worry, I survived,” Alphys’ grip hardens on her tail.

With care Aofil slowly puts their weight on the sofa and it complains a bit. They hum in thought. “I’ll have to reinforce it, just in case.”

“I’ll help you,” Undyne offers and pats Aofil on the shoulder. The sofa snaps in two and Undyne falls over Aofil.

They’re both left flailing in a pile of frictionless pillows. Toriel peeks around the corner again as Undyne and Aofil struggle to get loose. Papyrus lends a helping hand to Aofil.

They thank Papyrus and he turns around as Undyne tries to take his mitten. “ANYTIME, HUMAN FRIEND!” he bows.

Undyne slides back down and her hair flops down over her face. Aofil snickers as they offer their hand to the red faced blue fish. She grabs it and spins her hair back into place. She taps Papyrus’ shoulder. “YES?”.

“Papyrus,” Undyne smiles and wraps her arms around his waist. As she bends down for the suplex Toriel interrupts her with a demanding cough. Undyne places down Papyrus. “Sorry, Toriel.”

Toriel shakes her head dismissively and returns to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about your sofa. Asgore will get you a new one,” Undyne explains before returning to the vacuuming.

Aofil nods. “Like always.”

“sofa so good, right?” Sans quips from the hallway.

“How far are you on that carpet, Sans?” Aofil replies.

“about, i don’t know.”

“You’re sleeping on it,” Aofil notices as they round the corner.

“i held it down for you,” Sans explains as Aofil rolls him off the carpet.

“Sure you were,” Aofil confirms as they shoulder the carpet. Frisk catches the part dragging on the ground behind Aofil and together they lift it outside. They both throw a smile towards Toriel as they pass, but her reply is weak.

Aofil closes the patio door behind them and makes sure that the kitchen window is closed. They remember the dining room window, the stuck one, just in time and motion for Frisk to go a bit further away. They both throw the carpet over a sturdy branch on the apple tree.

Aofil catches Toriel’s lowered head through the window as they walk back. “I can’t stand seeing her that way, not after what happened. I just want her to be happy. Maybe, it could help us cope.”

Frisk nods.

Toriel puts away the final plate as Aofil enters with Frisk. “You feeling better, Aofil?”

“Yeah, thank you. Sorry for staining your dress, again.”

Toriel dries off her hand. “Again?”

Frisk nudges Aofil’s side. “Did I say again? Sorry, it just slipped, don’t know why.”

Toriel tilts Aofil’s head with her hand. “You absolutely sure you don’t have a head injury? I can help you. I know healing magic.”

Aofil lifts away Toriel’s hand gently. “As much as I would love it, Toriel, I can’t let you, or anyone, use magic on me.”

Toriel retracts her hand. “Why not?”

“I’m, um, cursed, so to speak.”

Toriel’s hand finds its way over her mouth. “Cursed? How?”

“I’d rather not talk about it. Just, don’t use magic on me. Please?”

Toriel lowers her hands on her dress. “If you say so, human. I only wanted to help.”

“I know that, Toriel. Trust me when I say that I wouldn’t want anything else but to have you heal me. But, I don’t trust this curse. I’m fine if I’m not influenced by magic, but I can’t imagine what I would do if I was exposed to it directly.”

Toriel looks at the fire stove, it’s burning nicely.

“Don’t worry, I can be around magic, but don’t use it on me,” Aofil reassures.

“Are you allergic to magic? Is that what you mean?”

Aofil lights up. “That’s a great way of putting it! Yeah, forget the curse, I’m allergic to magic. I can take a bit, like a paper cut, but nothing more.”

Toriel is taken back by Aofil’s enthusiasm. ”Well, then I understand.”

“Yes, good, awesome!” Aofil claps their hand. “Allergic, let’s go with that.”

Toriel looks at Frisk, but Frisk is just as confused.

“Wait here, Toriel. You too, Frisk. I’ll be right back.”

Aofil runs to the hallway and fetches a key chain with a small plastic lawnmower on it.

They spot Undyne putting away the vacuum. “Your house is now monster clean. Even Woshua would be impressed,” Undyne boasts before laughing.

“Grab the others and come outside the backyard, I have a surprise for you.”

Undyne flashes a smile. “Payment for the chores?”

“More or less.”

Aofil hears Toriel’s voice as they walk back to the kitchen, “Yes, Frisk, I do believe them,” and they wait a couple of seconds before reentering the kitchen.

They rattle the keys. “How about we all catch a nice tan?”

“Forgive me, I don’t think I understand,” Toriel replies.

Before Aofil can explain Undyne arrives with the rest on her back. She smiles at Aofil. “You told me.”

“Yes, I know, grab the others. Why don’t you get them outside? Mind the door.”

To everyone’s surprise she manages to squeeze through with her backpack of friends. She sets them down and Aofil asks her to follow them to the shed. They retrieve the sun chairs and lounge sofa from it and bring them back to the patio.

Toriel sits down on the sofa and puts on her sunglasses again. Her raised eyebrow silences the snickers from Undyne and Alphys.

The rest take a chair of their own. Aofil pulls the lever on the side of their chair and leans back and lock their fingers over their chest. They hear the others struggle with the technique before hearing their chairs lock in position.

“Nice weather, huh?” Aofil asks with their eyes closed. “It’s gonna rain tomorrow, so get as much sun now as you can.”

“rain? you sure?”

“Yup, you see, it is raining somewhere else right now. I don’t know where, but I now that it is somewhere. Then, tomorrow it’ll come here. Thunder as well. You ever heard thunder?”

“I’ve read and seen depictions of it.”

“From your anime, Alphys?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Believe it or not, it’s actually way cooler in real life.”

“and the rain?” Sans asks again.

Aofil flickers their fingers. “Pours like the Waterfall.”

“WOWIE, YOU HUMANS USE THE SAME EXPRESSION AS WE DO!”

Aofil opens one eye. “Actually, we say that it is raining cats and dogs.”

Toriel peeks over her sunglasses. “And it does?”

“No, it’s just a saying.”

“But, if you don’t use it, how did you know about our saying?”

Aofil puts a finger to their lips. “Sorry, human secret.”

Undyne bumps Aofil’s shoulder. “Really?”

“Nah, I’m just kidding. Frisk told me about their adventure.”

Frisk nods.

“About Snowdin. About Doggo, the guard in Snowdin that wields two blades. The Waterfall, Hotland, the list goes on. How they fell down and met all of you guys. Then they helped you break the barrier, somehow. Quite the day you guys had.”

Toriel shifts her eyes to Frisk for a second. “Yeah, quite the day.”

“THE BEST DAY!”

A gust of wind blows some grass of the pile in the corner. Aofil turns to Sans, but he’s still there. Must’ve been just, a normal wind. Aofil is a bit taken back at how weird that sounded.

Undyne sees Aofil staring at the corpses of her enemies. “You have any problems with it you shouldn’t have forced me to make it.”

Aofil flops their head to the side and raises an eyebrow at Undyne. ”Forced?”

“You know what I mean, whelp. Can’t we, I don’t know,” her smile widens, “burn it?”

“And leave a huge black spot on my lawn in the process? No thank you. I’ll probably get some bags for it. Or perhaps just throw it into the forest, give back to nature.”

Undyne summons a cyan pitchfork. “Why didn’t you just say that?” She walks over to the pile of grass and lifts it up with her pitchfork. With a pleased grunt she throws it high up over the trees.

“Thank you, Undyne. Nice throw!” Aofil cheers and Undyne poses heroically. “But, perhaps it would be better if it wasn’t on top of the trees.”

Undyne turns around and tosses a blunt spear that crashes heavily on the tree shaking the grass loose. She peeks over her houlder with a pleased grin. “Anything else, human?”

Aofil peers at the tree. “There’s still some blades left, but I can get them later, don’t worry.”

They share a laugh as Undyne returns to her chair. Afterwards they all sit in silence and take in the sun.

Some time pass before Aofil notices the long shadow from the apple tree. The sun is setting.

“Howdy,” comes a deep voice from the hallway. Aofil furrows their brow. Is Asgore already back? Last time he wasn’t home until way later.

“We’re outside, Asgore,” Undyne yells back.

Asgore’s curious head pops out the kitchen window. “Ah, there you are. How about I put on some tea?”

Toriel looks around the party and they all nod, except Aofil. “Yes, Asgore. If you could.”

Asgore smiles, “Anytime, Tori,” he halts, “dear,” and pulls his head back.

Toriel shakes her head and catches Aofil’s furrowed brow with her eyes. “Something on your mind, human?”

“Hm,” Aofil meets Toriel’s eyes, “oh, nothing, I was just lost in thought. Frisk, could you help me with some stuff upstairs? I might have some clothes you can use.”

Toriel sets down Frisk and stands up. “We’d love that.”

Aofil motions for the sofa. “Sit, Toriel. Enjoy the sun. Please, for me. It’s just a couple of old sweaters, don’t worry. You’ve waited for this moment, savor it.” Aofil takes Frisk’s hand. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

As the humans reach the upper floor Frisk glides out of Aofil’s hand.

“I didn’t lie, I do have some sweaters in your size.” Aofil enters a room and opens a wardrobe. “And to answer why I didn’t give them to you before, never thought about it. You seem pretty comfortable in blue and purple so I didn’t-” Aofil pulls out a green and yellow striped sweater. “Oh, right...” They fold it back neatly. “Maybe we shouldn’t dress you up as Chara. Toriel would have a heart attack.”

Frisk puts a hand on their chest and nods.

“You still can’t talk with them?”

Frisk shakes their head.

“If they ever want to talk, tell me, OK?”

Frisk smiles.

“Thank you. Oh, and the reason I brought you up here, why is Asgore back so soon? He was gone until tomorrow before, and we haven’t done anything different.”

Frisk thinks.

“Right?”

Frisk shakes their head.

“Not a reason that we know of, yeah. Maybe we should ask him? If he also remembers that could be trouble.”

Frisk shakes their head violently.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

Frisk’s head sinks and they nod again.

“Ah, I see, sorry. We’ve been up here for long enough now,” Aofil offers their hand, “let’s go back.” Frisk takes it.

They hear the teapot whistling as they come down the stairs. “Tea is done,” informs Asgore. “Oh, humans, could you help me with the cups?” He leans in closer. “So that Toriel don’t have to worry that I might put them on my horns again?”

The humans both smile and Aofil retrieves the cups. Frisk takes a couple and Aofil carries the rest.

“Asgore, I didn’t think you would be back this early. Did something happen?”

Asgore gambles on the temperature of the kettle handle and loses. He sucks his finger, “Oh, no. On the contrary,” and shakes the pain away, “It went great. We reached a compromise very quickly, it was like we’d done it before. I knew what to say, and the mayor knew what to say. I’m very pleased with the result.”

Frisk and Aofil share a concerned look before following Asgore outside. They hand the cups to the others. Asgore pours a round and then looks for a place to sit. His mantle sweeps the patio as he looks around, but all the chairs are busy.

Aofil halts their cup. “Oh, sorry, Asgore...” they scratch the back of their head. “I don’t think I have more chairs.”

“Nothing to worry about, I’ve sat for some time now. I can stand.”

“You sure?”

Asgore nods deeply. “You’re a great host, Aofil, it’s fine.” He taps his cup with a claw after taking a sip. “Though, if you’d allow me, earlier you said something about science.” Asgore snickers at the notion. “And to me it sounded like you meant that science wasn’t magic.”

Aofil swallows. “Oh yeah!” They put down their cup on the top of the patio fence. “You see, we humans don’t know magic, at least, not anymore. So, we were forced to figure out how the world works,” they pause for effect, “without it.”


	4. A night to remember

“Are we doing this again?”

Aofil tries to fight against the vines, but the vines squeeze harder in return, and Aofil’s ribs quake from the pressure.

A vine slithers its way to their chest and Aofil screams in pain as a red heart is drawn out. It’s cracked and is pulsating irregularly. With a pleased laughter Flowey lets Aofil go. “Pathetic, its so pathetic. Oh, well, a soul is a soul,” Aofil lands hard on the ground and a petal is thrown gently on Aofil’s head, “even if it’s from an idiot like you,” Flowey teases with a condescending voice.

He lifts the soul and basks in its red glow for a while before forcing it towards him. “No!” Aofil screams out as their soul is absorbed into Flowey.

Flowey cackles as he braces for his newfound power to surge through him. “Finally, a soul to call my own!” he boasts in triumph.

Aofil stands up on shaking knees, they clutch their wound, their, scars! They’re back, and they’re as painful as Aofil remembers! They try to come up with something, something to get their soul back, they can’t live without it. Wait a second, they can’t live without it. Then how are they still alive?

Flowey’s expression sours. “Are you serious? How is your soul this worthless?” He brings it out into the open again and shakes it. The rattling echoes through the vast and hollow cavern. Flowey turns around with burning eyes and burrows into the ground only to emerge right in front of Aofil’s feet. His face morphs into Aofil’s. “Look at me! I’m a stupid human with a broken soul,” they mock with Aofil’s voice.

Aofil stares at themselves. “What are you- What?”

Flowey returns to himself and waves Aofil’s soul in front of them. “Your soul is broken. You lied to me!” He throws it back to Aofil who clumsily catches it.

Flowey produces a phone from the ground. “ML? Yeah, it’s Flowey. Thank you, it’s been difficult. Listen, I’d like to sue Aofil.” Aofil tries to get their soul back into their chest but to no effect. “They did what? Are you sure, ML? Hold on for just a moment, please.” Flowey puts a vine over the phone. “Stop that!” he shouts to Aofil. They looks at him confused. “I’m trying to talk here!” Flowey returns to their phone. “What was that about my parents?”

Aofil stares at their soul. How are they alive with it outside them? Is it really their soul or is it-

A vine grabs Aofil’s ankle, “Hurry now, we got a trial for you,” and drags Aofil underground.

"Will the prosecution please bring forth their first witness?” asks a human judge.

Aofil opens their eyes and looks around the courtroom. Their head is forced forward by a steadfast hand. “Eyes front!” it commands and the scales scratch Aofil’s neck.

ML nods at the judge and picks up a potted flower. Aofil tries to shift their position so that they can see what flower it is, but a guard grabs their orange collar and forces Aofil back in the chair. Strains of red hair finds rest on their shoulder.

“The prosecution has summoned Flowey, the only living relative of the murdered royal couple,” ML states to the jury.

“Dead? No, they’re alive,” Aofil shouts out as Flowey is carried to the witness stand. They’re once again forced back down in the chair. It creeks from the force. "Asgore and Toriel are alive!"

“You killed them!” Flowey spits back. “First you lie in my face about coming back for me and then you murder my parents! To top it all off you gave me a broken soul.”

Both juries stare Aofil down and the hand on their neck hardens.

“No, I didn’t kill them! You’ve no proof!” Aofil defends.

The hand pushes Aofil down on the table. “Silence!”

“You wrote down those numbers! Didn’t you said so yourself,” accuses a child’s voice. Aofil scans the court room for the source. “Did you kill them to feed your curse?” it continues.

Aofil locks eyes with the source. “Frisk? No, Frisk, you know I didn’t kill them. You saw what happened. I didn’t do it!”

“Then why is there dust on your hands?” ML asks with a whip of their tail.

Aofil looks down at their hands. They grasp nothing, but as they release their fists a torrent of dust starts flowing through their fingers. They try desperately to brush it off, but it only burns their hands. The dust piles on the floor and the faintest outline of Asgore’s head emerges. “How’s this for your human science?” it asks.

Aofil feels a sinister grin form. They try to stop it, but it takes root from their very core. Their cheeks blush, and they see their red eyes color the dust the same color. They grasp the dust again, it feels good to them now. Asgore’s face whimpers at the sight.

ML eyes challenges the red ones of the crimson heart. “For crimes against the Royal Code you’re sentenced to death,” ML threatens.

A blue spear materializes on Aofil’s throat, it’s unstable and violent. Aofil lets a laugh escape their lips. “Goats to the slaught-” They’re cut off as Undyne slashes their throat. Aofil grabs it, but there’s no blood. They inspect their hand, it’s clean, the dust is gone.

They feel a pair of warm and fuzzy hands massage their shoulders. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Toriel asks as she bends over Aofil.

Aofil stares at the hellscape in front of them. The burning wreckage of the Above Lab, the corpses of both humans and monsters are strewn like pebbles on a beach. They step back from the sight and bump into Toriel.

She turns Aofil around with the utmost care. “You really did embrace us with your humanity, my child.”

Aofil face distorts into panic and fear, “Toriel, your face!” as they see the features of Toriel warming smile fade away. She envelops Aofil as her body dissipates.

Aofil falls to their knees and clutch their head. “No, not again. I just want to forget, not again.”

The coarse dust forms thick clumps as tears mix with Toriel’s essence. Like stones they fall heavily on the scorched earth. “I just want to forget...”

A child scoffs and Aofil looks up from their hunched over posture.

“You want to forget, like you did with me?” Chara smiles.

“No, not like you.”

Oozing void pours from Chara eyes and mouth, but a smile breaks the black veil. “Funny,” with a tilt of their neck they’re jerked towards Aofil. Chara’s mouth grows and a hollow laughter pierces Aofil’s head, “I can’t see the difference.”

Undyne’s blue spear lights up the dark room. “Aofil, you alright? I heard you screaming!”

Aofil snaps their eyes towards the monster that just sliced their throat, “No! Get away!” and shields themselves with their shaking arms.

“Alphys, wake Toriel, she needs to heal Aofil,” Undyne commands down the hallway.

“No,” Aofil stops her as she approaches, “no magic, don’t!” They try to catch their breath, but the image of Chara and Toriel is clogging their head. They can’t find something to lean on and they fall out of their bed and hit the ground hard.

Undyne rushes to Aofil’s aid as Alphys halts Frisk at the doorway. They fail to stop Toriel though. “What’s happening?”

Undyne grabs Aofil’s head and holds it still. “Aofil, look at me. It was just a dream.”

Aofil sees the guard that executed them and they struggle to get loose. “I didn’t kill them, it was an accident.”

“Human!” Undyne demands again, “It was just a dream,” and knocks the air out of Aofil with a fist just underneath their rib cage.

The images retreat as Aofil desperately gasps for air. Undyne stretches their back upright and Aofil breathes greedily. Every breath worries the room. Alphys’ grip around Frisk hardens and Frisk hugs just as hard back. Their face is buried in Alphys’ side. Toriel walks slowly towards Aofil’s bed with worry blossoming on her face.

Aofil takes support on Undyne’s shoulder. “U-Undyne.”

Undyne puts them gently back up on their bed. “You scared us there. Bad dream?”

Aofil nods.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Aofil shakes their head and Undyne notices that they’re trying desperately to hold their posture. “It’s OK, you don’t have to.”

Toriel sits down gently beside Aofil and with an ever gentler hand she inspects Aofil head. “Human, I’m not going to be upset with you if you change your answer now,” she looks at Aofil with concerning eyes, “but do you have a head injury? Do you need a human doctor?”

Aofil wipes away the sweat on their forehead with an unstable hand. “N-no, it was just a bad dream, nothing else.” Aofil can see that Toriel knows that they’re lying.

“If you say so,” she motions for the others to leave, “we’ll give you some space to breathe.” She runs a tender finger on Aofil’s cheek. “Call for us if you need something, promise me. Anything.”

Aofil can’t look her in the eyes. “I promise.”

Toriel halts at the door. “Sleep well, human.”

Aofil sees her smile turn into a concerning frown just as the door is closed. They rest a heavy head in their hands.

“Fuck.”

After a couple of minutes they realize that they’re thirsty.

Their bedroom door bumps Undyne’s side. ”Can’t sleep?” she asks as she sidesteps so that Aofil can go on through.

“No. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Undyne smiles. “I’m keeping guard for nightmares.”

Aofil can’t muster a laugh.

Undyne nods in concern. “That bad?”

Aofil breathes out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, it was.”

Undyne puts a soft hand on Aofil’s back. It feels the same as in the dream. “It wasn’t real, human. Besides, we all have bad dreams from time to time.” She gives Aofil a comforting rub and a smile that almost blinds them. “One time I dreamed that Jerry joined the Royal Guard.” Undyne shivers. “It was pretty bad, I felt horrible the entire day after.”

Aofil doesn’t know how to react.

“The things is, don’t worry about it. It wasn’t real,” Undyne tries again to comfort.

Aofil knows that she means well, that she only wants to help. But the wording couldn’t have been poorer. They nod weakly. “I’m gonna get a glass of water.”

Undyne salutes. “I’ll stand guard, don’t worry.”

The kitchen floor is cold, almost as if the kitchen window was left open. Which it is. Aofil sighs and moves to close it. They halt their hand as a mellow tune finds its way inside. They recognize it, Undyne played it yesterday. Aofil peeks out the window, “Asgore?”

Asgore shuts close a box next to him and the music stops. He folds a binder and greets Aofil through the window with a smile. “Howdy, why are you up at this hour?”

Aofil fills a glass with water and walks out onto the even colder patio. “Was about to ask you the same?” They motion for a blanket next to Asgore. “Could you?”

Asgore hands Aofil the blanket. “You want some tea as well? I brewed a kettle just recently.”

Aofil throws the water over the fence. “I’d love some.”

Asgore chuckles and pours Aofil a glass. “So, can’t sleep?”

Aofil feels their grasp on the glass harden. “Bad dream.” The heat from it has them loosening their grip almost immediately.

“Drink some, it’ll calm you down.” Asgore grabs a hovering fireball above his shoulder, “Here, to warm you further,” and moves is over Aofil’s. He runs his paw over it and the light changes from white to a warming orange. “Despite us living Underground we do need light to see as well. I made it a bit warmer for you. Don’t worry about it touching you, it won’t hurt you.”

Aofil still sinks down a bit, just in case. They don’t feel anything except the warmth, but again, just in case. “Thank you, it’s a bit chilly tonight.”

Asgore smiles and summons another fireball to replace the one he gave Aofil. With a flick of his wrist he flips open a pair of glasses and mounts them on his muzzle.

Aofil blows a bit on their tea, Asgore must’ve had it on his magic it’s so warm. “You never told me you needed glasses.”

Asgore tilts his head and looks over his rims. Aofil can’t help but snicker at the sight. Asgore notices and pushes them further up with a stern expression that quickly fades into a wide smile. “You humans use a smaller font than what I’m used to.” He lifts them off his face. “Your mayor saw my struggles and offered me a pair which I gladly accepted.”

“What are you reading?”

Asgore puts his glasses back. “Just some of your human laws. I don’t want to stumble on a formality now that we’ve come this far. While you’re here, could you perhaps tell me how your human trials are conducted?”

Aofil almost crushes their glass in their hand. “No, no idea.”

“Aofil, you’re shaking,” Asgore comments. “Do you want me to make the fire warmer? I’m covered in fur so I don’t know how warm you want it to be.”

Aofil nods even though the fire is plenty warm, maybe a bit too warm now. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, human.”

The brisk night air sweeps over the lawn and Asgore’s hair and beard flow with it. He seems unfazed by the cold though unlike Aofil who lifts up their legs as the wind hits them. They take another mouthful of tea to counter the cold snap that is their legs. The comforting liquid spreads to Aofil’s nerves and they feel their tense shoulders sink. They allow themselves to lean back a bit more.

Their head is still busy trying to organize the dream. What it meant, if anything. Frisk did say that it wouldn’t get easier, is this what they meant? Does Frisk have these dreams as well? Are they used to them? Aofil sighs into the wind.

How will they continue? Do the same thing? Change it for the better? At least try, perhaps. But, if these dreams become the norm...

They shake their head at the thought. No, they can’t think like this! Can’t think about Toriel dying, can’t think about Chara, can’t think about their parents, their-

The fire over their shoulders sparks and they recoil. Asgore motions over it with his hands. “Sorry, I lost focus. It should be stable now.”

Aofil nods and Asgore returns to his binder. He makes a note. “Papyrus needs a driver’s license as well,” he thinks out loud. He flips the pages and taps his pen on his muzzle.

Aofil savors another sip. They feel their grip loosening and feeling more relaxed. A yawn tries to escape, but they manage to hold it in.

They wonder if they should repeat the cloud trick again with the monster pupils. Toriel won’t find any human teachers. She didn’t find any before. But then again, she didn’t know about human science before. Aofil sinks down as they realize that they might’ve screwed themselves over, big time.

“Set aside a budget for his car, and Undyne’s house,” Asgore mumbles to himself.

Aofil pouts in thought. What about Above Lab? They got a job there, they think. At least passage into it. What was Asgore about to show? Just the magic show?

“Was the tea bitter?” Asgore asks as they see Aofil’s furrowed expression.

“What? No, I was just,” a small yawn slinks through, “I was just thinking.”

Asgore nods. ”I see.”

Aofil nods as well and drums on their cup. Were where they? They feel another yawn form. Oh yeah, the Above Lab. The ooze, the dust, the death. All that horrible shit.

They hum in frustration to try to get the images out of their head. Still there. They take another sip. Still there, and now they’re tired as well. They lower their head. Why? Why them? They’re just a normal human, with a curse. No, allergy, human with an allergy. That’s normal, but normal people don’t have memories like they do. Normal people don’t hear someone they saw die mumble about how to guide the humans through the Underground.

“Undyne takes care of Mettaton,” Asgore notes.

Memories. Maybe theirs aren't even real? Maybe Chara lied about, well, everything? About Flowey, about Toriel and Asgore dying, about, their parents.

Tomorrow, tomorrow they’ll ask them if it was real. And perhaps, they can help with the memories.

Tomorrow, yeah, tomorrow is good. Not now, the chair is too comfortable. The cover and fire, too warm. Aofil, too tired.

Asgore closes the binder and takes a big gulp of tea. He breathes out a thick cloud of steam. “Do you mind if I ask you another question, Aofil? Nothing about your laws, I was just wondering if you could tell me a bit,” he snaps his fingers and the fireballs disappears in a sizzle. He motions for the sky, “about these.”

It takes a while for Aofil’s eyes to adjust themselves to the darkness.

“Could you show me some of your constellations?” Asgore asks while his eyes dance around the sky. Countless stars reflect in his eyes, but they’re nothing compared to his smile. “If you’d indulge me.”

“Are yours different than ours?” Aofil asks with their eyes half closed.

“I don’t know.” He turns to Aofil with childlike wonder in his eyes. “But I’d love to.”

Aofil rubs their eyes. “You see that big one,” they yawn, “the one that, oh,” they yawn again. They feel their eyes struggle to keep open.

Asgore saves Aofil’s glass from slipping out of their grasp. “Tell you what, human. I’ll look for your constellations, you rest a bit.” He conjures up another orange flame next to Aofil, it feels nice for them. A thought about how Asgore would stargaze with it in his eyes passes by Aofil too quickly for them to react, they burrow down into the blanket. “I’ll wake you when I’m ready to hear your map of the stars, human.”

Aofil nods. “Sounds good,” and shuts their eyes.

They open one slightly as they hear the floorboard under them creek. Their body is being carried by a pair of big and soft arms. Golden hair sways above them. Asgore’s fur is warm and cozy and Aofil nestles into a more comfortable position. One hand releases them, but they’re still as comfortable as they were with two arms holding them.

“What are you doing, Asgore?” Toriel whispers harshly.

Aofil feels their hammock of fur bounce a bit. “Just about to tuck them in.”

“Are they asleep? You sure?”

Aofil closes their eye again.

“I’m pretty sure. You should’ve seen them. They dozed off in a matter of seconds. They said that they had a bad dream, must’ve been exhausting for them.”

Asgore rolls Aofil off his arm and Aofil flops down on the bed awkwardly. They don’t mind it though, even if one of their arm is bent awkwardly over their back. They feel Asgore move it to a more natural position before he throws their cover them. It lands softly over Aofil.

“You haven’t learned a thing, Asgore,” Toriel whispers gently.

“I know,” Asgore responds.

She sighs and runs a hand on Aofil’s head. “I pray that they don’t get another nightmare. I can’t imagine what they dreamed of. They looked like they surfaced from something horrible.” Toriel stops. She removes her hand and stands up. “Tell me, do they also remind you of, someone?”

Asgore sighs as well, he stands up from the bed and Aofil almost bounces up. “I don’t know, there’s something about them I can’t quite shake off. They also told us they were family, remember? Could it mean something?”

“I’ll ask them tomorrow morning.”

“Be as discreet as you can, please. We don’t want them to suspect anything.”

“I’ll tell you their answer once you return, Asgore.”

With a gently cough Asgore wakes up Undyne. “I was, I was!” she tries to excuse, but Toriel hushes her. “I was just baiting the nightmares to come to me instead,” Undyne whispers.

Aofil snickers as they fall asleep.


	5. A life in their hands

"U-Undyne, you think this is a good idea?"

Aofil rolls over so that their back faces the bedroom door. Ten more minutes, then they'll get up.

"Ngah, you think I'm gonna drop this?"

Aofil braces themselves for the inevitable smash. They don't know exactly what will be dropped, but they know something's about to.

"F-five of them?"

"Easiest thing in the world!" Undyne boasts. "Just as easy as, oops."

Aofil stares at the roof and sweeps their cover off as three crashes follow each other in rapid succession. Sounds like porcelain.

They arrive downstairs and are greeted by Toriel’s back and shaking head standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Good morning,” they greet back at her. She turns around. “I heard a bit of commotion, is everyone OK?” Aofil continues.

Toriel’s frown morphs into a smile as she turns around to face Aofil. “Good morning, Aofil. Did you sleep well?” She takes a step forward towards Aofil, obscuring their vision of the mess behind her. Aofil hears someone sweeping the floor though, and judging by the blue legs moving behind Toriel they guess it is Undyne.

“Yeah, I think I fell asleep outside next to Asgore. No nightmares for the rest of the night. None I can remember.”

“I’m relieved to hear that.” She peeks at Undyne sweeping up the porcelain shards. ”Don’t worry about that, we had an accident. We’ll repay you for the plates.” Toriel motions for the hallway. “Can I speak to you in private?”

“What’s on your mind?”

Aofil knows exactly what is on her mind.

Toriel smiles warmly. “When we arrived at your wonderful home you said that you were family, Aofil. I was just wondering what you meant by that.”

“I, I, it just slipped.” Aofil shifts their stance. “You seemed friendly enough.”

“Thank you,” Toriel lets her smile fade a bit. “But family? Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it immensely, and to an extent, I do feel so myself.” It fades a bit more. “But, something else tells me that this isn’t how things were supposed to happen. We return after, to us, an eternity, and the first human we meet calls us family and treats us as if we were.” Toriel puts a hand on Aofil’s shoulder. “I can’t express how grateful I am, how generous your hospitality is. I’m not blaming you for anything. I just want to know.”

“is it shard getting them all in the pan, undyne?”

Aofil sees Undyne pushing away Sans with her broom over Toriel’s shoulder. Toriel forces back eye contact with Aofil. “Human?”

“Magic,” Aofil informs again.

“Magic? You humans still use it? I though you said you only use your human science?”

“No, as far I know it’s just my family that knows magic.”

“Your family? I apologize for bringing it up then.”

Aofil scans Toriel’s face. “When did I tell you about my family?”

“You said yesterday that they died, didn’t you?” Toriel seems unsure about the answer herself. She sees Aofil’s concerned expression. “Again, I apologize for bringing it up. It wasn’t my intention.”

“No worries, Toriel.”

“I’ll not push matters further, you’ve said enough. Thank you, Aofil.” Toriel smiles before returning to the kitchen.

“Anytime.”

Toriel’s head leans back into the door frame. “Oh, I almost forgot. Would you like to join us for breakfast?” Aofil’s stomach rumbles as if on cue and Toriel snickers. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Aofil follows Toriel with a furrowed brow. They sit down and absently nod as Alphys wishes them good morning. Did Toriel really remember, or did she just misheard what happened yesterday? Same thing happened with Asgore and the mayor yesterday. How are they remembering? Do they know that they’re remembering?

A bony hand places a plate with food in it before Aofil. Aofil fumbles for a spoon and starts eating. The monsters can’t remember everything like Aofil, right? That’s impossible. They wrinkle their forehead, not that the fact that Aofil can remember should be considered normal.

Their spoon searches their plate, but it’s empty. A bony hand asks for Aofil’s plate and they hand it over while still deep in thought. Do everyone have a ghost sibling at hand to explain what happened? Toriel asks a question and Aofil nods without hearing it. She places another plate in front of Aofil. They chew on something hard, but it gives way after some force. Could use a bit more salt.

A furry hand asks for Aofil’s plate and they hand it over. Clanking from the kitchen indicates that dishes are being made. Aofil moves over to the sofa and sinks down with a sigh. So many questions, and no one to turn to. Well, except Frisk. Frisk knows, but no, they can’t ask a kid. Not about this, they’ve asked enough.

That nightmare though. No, just a nightmare, nothing else, Aofil thinks, hopes. Just a nightmare with bad timing.

They hear someone mumble and they follow the voice. Maybe their parents know something? Maybe. They did rescue them after all. Or, was that also a dream? It felt just as real as the nightmare. They have to know, Aofil has to ask. But they can’t go now, they’ve guests.

“Thank you again for housing us these past days,” Toriel smiles at the doorway.

Aofil notices that they’re holding the door for her. Huh... “A-anytime, Toriel. Are you leaving this soon?”

“We were supposed to leave yesterday, remember?”

“Yes,” Aofil lies.

Toriel produces a large bundle of money from her robe. “Here, for everything.”

Aofil accepts the stack, it’s the same amount they received before. They shift their eyes to the broken sofa for a second. “Thank you, Toriel.”

“I’ve also left a snail pie just for you in the freezer. You seemed to be enjoying it so I thought you would enjoy one for yourself.”

Aofil licks their teeth and notices that a piece of shell is stuck on one. They force their smile to stay. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll,” they pause, “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”

Toriel bows and walks down the path. “Anyways, see you soon, Aofil.”

“I’ll drop by later with my credentials.”

Toriel stops in her step. “Didn’t you already hand me them? Could’ve sworn.”

“I might’ve mentioned it when we discussed human science,” Aofil tries to save.

Toriel nods in response, “Could be,” but Aofil sees that she’s still thinking.

“What are you doing, Frisk? Want me to carry you?” Undyne asks and scoops up Frisk with one hand. With a risky throw she catches Frisk on her shoulders.

Aofil sees Toriel throwing a burning gaze towards Undyne. “Anyway, I’ll catch you later. You enjoy your day, Toriel.”

Toriel nods slowly and with heavy steps she joins the others. Aofil hears Undyne apologizing sheepishly before closing the door.

They walk upstairs and sit themselves at their desk. A pen in one hand and paper in the other they start with their credentials. They suspect that they need to make it proper this time. No problem, they’ve got this in the bag. They roll their shoulder and start.

Half an hour later the paper is just as blank with the exception of a tiny dot where the pen was first put down. A small irregular line also stains the paper from when the pen was dropped.

Aofil sighs in annoyance, they can’t think straight. Their head is too jumbled, filled with questions. And then you add the nightmare on top of that.

Aofil sighs again. Maybe a walk? Visit their family? They nod to themselves, answers are in store. Oh yeah, they need to go there as well. Family first though.

The iron gate squeaks as they open it. No one’s around, and they walk to their family.

“No flowers today, I’m afraid. Next time though, I promise.”

Silence surrounds them. Aofil seats themselves on a nearby bench.

“Thank you for what you did, it means a lot.” They lean forward. “Chara says hi as well.”

A nearby aspen shakes violently.

“Sorry, the last one was a lie, I admit. Frisk says that Chara can’t speak to them, not to me either. You know Frisk? The kid that saved my soul? I don’t know if you heard Chara tell me what happened? Basically-”

The aspen leafs flutter in the wind.

“Do you want me to continue or stop?”

The wind stops. Aofil looks around just in case the wind was Sans’ doing. They don’t see no skeletons though, be it human or monster.

“Stop?”

Aofil doesn’t hear a no.

“I’ll tell you later then, if that’s alright. Because now, I need your help. Again.”

Aofil rests their head onto their clamped knuckles.

“You see, Frisk did something called a reset, turned back time. That’s why I ran up Mt Ebott again, why I fell down. My dead twin sibling then explained to me my life, and then I met you, my also dead family. We had a nice dinner, and then I woke up with my broken and corrupted magical soul inside of me again.”

They laugh at the absurdity of what they just said.

“All in all, the people I saw die, the monsters I saw being turned to dust, they’re back. I can talk to them, touch them, they can touch me. I want to forget, except I don’t. I look at them, and the only thing I see their dust, death. Frisk said that it wouldn’t get easier.” Aofil clasps their hair. “I don’t know if I can survive another nightmare by myself. If Undyne wasn’t there I would’ve-”

They run their hands over their face.

“It’s, it’s-”

Aofil laughs again.

“It’s fucking insane! I don’t know what to do. I know what I want to do, but with all these memories of things that happened, yet they didn’t happen, because now I’m back in time.”

Their breathing quickens.

“I don’t even know if you know, because your souls didn’t remember, or something. I don’t even know if that’s true! If what happened before Frisk’s reset was true. Did Chara lie? Were you even real? Is this even real? Am I just, am I just dying?”

They pick up a handful of gravel and throw it against their family’s grave. “Answer me, I need your help! I can’t do this on my own!”

Silence.

“Something? Anything! Please!”

Silence.

“I just, I want you to come back.”

Silence.

“It’s, it’s all my fault. My soul’s fault.”

They grab their chest.

“Out.”

They harden their grip, but grab only flesh.

“Out! It’s your fault! Face me! Look at me and tell me why you’re doing this!”

They demand their pain to let them grip harder. They want to see this parasite. They want to crush it. No magic, just human. That's what they are! Get all this cursed magic out of them!

They feel their chest drip with something warm. It stains their shirt. It’s OK, blood they can lose, they just want to... Wait, that’s not blood. It’s too-

A surge of awareness rushes through their being and they feel something in their palms. They look down with wide open eyes that reflect the red that is their soul.

It’s heavy, weightless, yet still heavy. Very heavy. Aofil’s hands shake as they contain it.

“It’s pathetic,” they remember Flowey calling it. Aofil agrees. Their soul is cracked, broken, whimpering. It’s cold, it’s weak, it’s crying. It wants to go back, to be with Aofil again.

They refuse. No, they don’t need it, it’s only brought death. Chara, their family, Toriel, Asgore. Who knows more?

Aofil’s fingers close in on their soul. They need to destroy it. No more death. No more magic. They’re just, human, nothing more. They take a deep breath and forces their hand to close.

But it refused.

Again Aofil clamps their hand together.

But it refused.

They can’t get a grip so they lift their other hand and smash it in between their palms.

But it refused.

“Why?” Aofil screams at their soul. Their entire body is shaking from the pain that their punches have caused. “Why won’t you just leave me?”

Their soul cowers. It wants to explain.

“No! You’re the reason my parents died, you’re the reason Chara left me.”

What else did I do?

“Sans, Asgore. Everyone. The trial, my summer home!”

What else did I do?

“You’re the curse! You’re determination, my allergy. Because of you I can never fully appreciate my friends.”

What else did I do?

“You put thoughts in my head! You made me want to kill them, you wanted to force my hand!”

Aofil blinks.

“Hand. You forced my hand. I felt you, you starved yourself, you hurt yourself, to make me remember.”

They look down at their still soul.

“That it wasn’t me, that it was the curse. That it was you, that you couldn’t help it, because you’re broken. No.”

Their soul flutters to life again.

“That we’re broken, together. Because we’re me.”

Yes I am.

The broken soul of the cursed human retreats to where it belongs, as an equal part of being human.

They’re broken, they’re pathetic, cursed. But they’re also human, and they’ll get through this, as one. As their soul settles Aofil feels that they’re whole again and another surge shoots through them. Their humanity is flowing through them once again. It feels, weird. It feels-

They charge the nearest bush and throw up violently.

Aofil almost falls over as a gale bursts through the graveyard. They steady themselves and take a deep breath while motioning for the tree to relax. “I’m calm now, don’t,” they throw up again, “worry,” they whisper faintly and spit.

A smaller wind brushes them by. “are we a bit full of ourselves? get it all out, i’ll wait.”

“Sans,” Aofil addresses the now occupied space next to them. They figured that sooner or later one of the winds would eventually be him. “How long have you been here?”

“just blew by. saw you here all alone. thought you wanted some company.”

Aofil dries their mouth with their sleeve. “And the actual reason?”

Sans sits down on the bench and as Aofil joins him he hands Aofil a poorly held together pile of cash. It’s smaller than the one Toriel gave them. “the kid told me that we did a bit more damage this time around.”

“You left plenty enough last time.”

Sans shrugs and inserts the money into Aofil’s pocket. “i’m just the delivery skeleton. if you want to make a return you should talk to frisk.”

Aofil fishes up the bundle. “Is it Frisk’s money?”

“nope.”

“Then who’s is it?”

“yours.”

“Sans.”

He closes his eyes and leans back. “still the messenger, aof. frisk asked me for a favor, and who would i be if i said no to them?”

“Sans sans soul?”

Sans nods, pleased by the pun. “i have to remember that one.”

“You do that.”

The sound of gravel being disturbed catches Aofil’s ear. They pocket the money and knock Sans’ hood over his head. “afraid of people looking at this handsome mug instead of yours?” he comments with a fair amount of seriousness to his voice.

Aofil hushes Sans as the footsteps near them.

“We here to respect the dead?” the pastor asks.

Sans head scans the area. “oh,” he notices, “no wonder it’s dead quiet.” He feels Aofil stare him down. “i guess you were here for a reason, sorry.”

The pastor motions for the bench. “Mind if I sit down, my child?”

“It’s your graveyard.”

The pastor seats himself on the other side of the bench. “Your friend, I assume?”

Sans nods.

“If you excuse me for being nosy, but why a jacket in this weather?”

Sans shrugs.

“He’s very pale, been living underground for his entire life,” Aofil explains. “He’s not used to the sun.”

The pastor nods with squinting eyes. “If you say so, Aofil.” He tilts his head towards Sans. “You must be new to this town.” The pastor extends his hand. “Welcome.”

With a shimmy of his shoulder Sans covers his hand with his jacket arm and takes the pastor’s hand. “thank you, i’m sure i’ll have a grave time.”

The pastor struggles not to frown. ”The pleasure is mine.”

Sans jumps down from the bench. “seems like you two want to have a chat so i’m gonna head home. talk to you later, aofil. pleasure meeting you, pastor.”

Aofil waves Sans goodbye and as Sans rounds the corner a tiny wind breezes by Aofil and the pastor.

The two humans sit for a while, listening to the silence. The pastor eventually breaks it. “I heard you grieving.”

Aofil leans back. “Grieving, yeah.”

“So do I,” the pastor puts a hand on Aofil’s shoulder. “It pains me to say this, my child, but I’m not gonna apologize for what I said before.”

Aofil nods. “I know.” The pastor removes his hand and Aofil smiles at the reaction. “Father, I know what happened.”

The pastor scrambles up on his feet, knocking gravel all over the place. “You know about the attack?”

Aofil pats their chest. “About my curse as well.”

“This is,” the pastor sits down again, “I don’t believe it, it’s impossible.”

Aofil nods. “It is, father.”

“Then how?”

“Magic, that’s all I know.”

“Wait, that friend of yours?” The pastor’s face freeze. He looks at Aofil and they shrug like Sans. “Was that a monster?”

Aofil scratches their nose. “They’re harmless enough. You haven’t read today’s paper?”

The pastor shakes his head. Neither have Aofil, for that matter, now that they’re thinking about it. They try to think if they saw it or not? They shoot open their eyes. What if Toriel has it?

“Excuse me, I have to go,” Aofil and the pastor say together and bolt off in opposite directions.

The iron gate squeaks as Aofil rushes through it.


	6. There and back again

Aofil arrives out of breath at the newly built neighborhood. They let their panting die down for a minute before heading to Toriel's house. A minute of silence passes after they knock on the door, nothing. Dammit, what if she's on her way to the press already? It'll be a disaster. They turn around to figure out where to run off to next and spot Undyne leaving her house in training gear.

"Hey, Aofil! If you’re look for Toriel and Frisk, they went out for a walk, or something," she informs as she jogs up to Aofil. "They took Papyrus with them. I was about to head to the gym and train with him, but now I don't have a," she pauses for a second and her smile flashes, "sparring partner."

Aofil shakes their head. "No."

Undyne nods. "Yes," and her smile widens. "Yes, first we go to the gym, and then we spar. You and me human, it's gonna be glorious! Ngah, finally, an adult human to train with!" She grabs Aofil's arm. "Come, we’ll do squats until our legs fall off!"

Aofil’s arm almost snaps out of its socket as Undyne takes off with them. “I can’t work out in these clothes,” they try to explain away. “I’ll only slow you down as well.”

Undyne kicks in her own door and it ricochets hard on the wall. “Nonsense, I’ll get you some clothes,” she laughs maniacally as she bolts upstairs. Aofil rolls their arms to ease the shock of Undyne pulling them with all her might.

Alphys pokes her head out from the living room. “Oh, Aofil. Nice seeing you here.” Another door slams shuts upstairs and she cocks her head towards the muffled laughter and rumblings. “What’s Undyne doing?”

A pair of shoes are tossed down the stairs. They land with a squeak and their whiskers shake.

“Mikkarama shoes?” Aofil comments.

Alphys’ face lights up. “Y-you know about it? Isn’t it the best? Almost as good as MewMew, right? I’ve only seen nine seasons, are there more up here? I’m really curios how they’ll conclude the judge lion story arc.”

Aofil shrugs. “I don’t know, um, a friend told me about it. Not really seen it myself.”

With a lowered head, Alphys’ wrings her claws together. “I unders-stand.”

“By the way, Alphys? Did you perhaps see my newspaper before we left?”

Alphys nods after some quick thinking. “Yeah, we put it on the pile next to the fireplace.”

Aofil’s shoulders almost flies off as the weight is lifted off them.

Undyne’s laughter increases in volume and she jumps down the stairs with more clothing in her arms. She also picks up the shoes as she lands on the hardwood floor, “You’ve no excuse now, human!” and throws the clothes onto Aofil. “Shorts, shoes made by my cuddlesaur, and a tank top!” Undyne flexes. “Like what I bench! Ngahaha!”

Aofil shakes the tank top off their head, it smells like pink. ”Undyne, as much as I’d love to go to the gym.”

“You’ll gonna love it even more because you’re going with me? I knew it!” Undyne interrupts.

Aofil shrugs. “That too, but-”

Undyne’s smile drains away alarmingly fast. “You, you don’t want to work out with me?”

“No, it’s not that,” Aofil tries to explain. But the words have already been spoken.

Her lower lips quivers. It’s the first time Aofil’s seen it do so. It looks so wrong. With a lowered head she spins on her heel. “I’m gonna go fetch a water bottle,” she sighs and leans very dramatically on the door frame, “for myself. I guess I’ll spar with myself, again.” She sighs very deeply again so that Aofil can hear it. “I’ve always dreamed of sparring with a human.”

Aofil looks down at the shoes in their arms. It pouts as well and its whiskers hang low like Undyne.

Aofil shakes their head at the theater before them, they’ve long enough to know that she’s playing them. “Undyne?”

She turns around with watery eyes. “Yes?” she whimpers pathetically. A bit too pathetically.

“You’re a horrible actor,” Aofil states with a shaking finger. “However, I’m willing to meet you halfway. Give me one reason besides those crocodile tears and I’m in.”

She looks over her shoulder towards the kitchen. “I can cook us lunch once we get home?”

“Good enough?” Aofil asks themselves. They shrug. “Yeah, good enough.” What’s the worst that can happen? It’s just a bit of exercise. They bounce their clothes. “Where can I change?”

Undyne’s pleased cheer shakes the house and Alphys squeaks very similar to the shoes as Undyne hugs her. “Alphee, I’ll be away for a bit with the human. You can stay here and do your nerd stuff. I’ll deal with you another day.”

“Thank you,” Alphys mouths to Aofil.

Undyne releases Alphys and jerks open a nearby door. “Bathroom, Aofil. Change now!”

Her laughter vibrates through the door and fills the bathroom. Aofil takes another peek at the clothes they were given. The color is familiar. As they change they catch a glimpse of themselves in the mirror and wiggle their toes. The shoes’ ears move. They nod to themselves, very familiar, the only thing missing is the cape and tiara.

Aofil was right, it could pass off as training clothes. But why would Alphys tinker with them? Aofil taps their own clothes in thought. Oh yeah, what about them? Where can Aofil put them? Laundry basket? No, there isn't one. Bathtub? No.

Three heavy knocks startles them. “You ready to sweat, human? You ready to stomp Mt. Ebott beneath your feet? Ngah, this is gonna be glorious! I can’t wait!” Undyne shouts through the door. She knocks again. “Hurry up!”

Aofil opens it before Undyne does a Mettaton and punches through the door. “I’m ready, I think. Where should I put my clothes?”

Undyne takes them and chucks them on a nearby chair. “There we go. Now, human,” she grabs Aofil’s arm again, “let’s run!”

Alphys waves them goodbye and Undyne takes lead immediately. Aofil follows, way behind.

The pavement eventually gives way to the dirt road leading to Mt Ebott. Undyne wipes her forehead and chugs another gulp of water. “Never thought I’d run up Mt Ebott, let alone with a human.” She rubs her hands together in excitement and starts her ascent. “Let’s go, Aofil!”

She gets a pained breath as an answer and stops to wait. “How, how are you this fast, Undyne? I understand you being that downhill, but on flat ground as well?” Aofil explains in between gasps for air. “Did you hold back when you chased me?”

Undyne hands Aofil their water bottle. “What do you mean chased? When did I do that?” Aofil chokes on the water and Undyne gives them a rough pat on the back. “You can’t be this tired yet, we got a mountain to climb.”

Too close. Aofil needs to learn how to control their tongue.

The cough from their choking knocks the air out of Aofil, and they lean on their knees as look up the mountain. It looks way bigger for some reason. “Great,” they snark.

Undyne ignores the sarcasm and instead looks around, but she can’t seem to find the path. Aofil walks up to their dirt path and shows Undyne the entrance.

She summons a spear and clears the path from twigs and bushes. ”And up we go, human! You and me, together.”

“After you,” Aofil offers.

“Hahaha!” Undyne shoves Aofil in front of her. “No. You first, I want to get a close eye on you for our glorious battle, ngahaha!”

Aofil catches their breath and looks up the mountain again, it somehow looks even bigger again. How? They step foot on the Mt. Ebott and start their ascent.

A long while later filled with exhaustive breathing from Aofil, Undyne finally overtakes Aofil, only to turn around. “Come on, human! Just one more step!”

The human's tired hand is thrown towards the steep trail. “We’re not even close! We got like, halfway left.”

Undyne spins around and jogs backwards. “Come on, human! Just a couple more steps! Ngah!”

She stumbles on a root and Aofil can’t resist their snicker. With a pout she sits up and rubs her head as Aofil passes. “No,” she firmly informs.

Aofil searches for any roots in front of them. They don’t see any, good. They make a calculated risk and turn around like Undyne did. “What do you mean, no? I’d never laugh at you. Even though you’re as graceful as a fish out of water,” Aofil teases.

Undyne brushes the dirt off herself while shaking her head in disappointment. She summons a spear in her hand. “Congratulations, punk, you’ve just earned yourself an early lunch,” she laughs and throws the spear towards Aofil. It lands just beside them, “some aspearagus!”

Aofil fumbles for the spear, but it melts away in their hand as they grab it. “You’ve saved that one! Admit it.”

Undyne conjures another spear, it’s more violent than the previous one.

“Or did you steal it?”

The spear grows.

“Perhaps,” Aofil continues. Undyne reacts by spinning the spear in her hand. Aofil takes strain on a hole in the ground, “you stole it from Sans?” and takes off up the mountain. They hear a familiar yell behind them, but this time they know that she means no harm. The spear sizzles right next to their ear and they force themselves to run faster. It’s still good motivation though.

“Got you now, human!”

The spear lands between Aofil’s legs and they trip onto the plateau. Undyne smiles as she closes in on their prey. She offers Aofil a hand. “Good run, human. Five minutes rest, then we’ll see what you’re made of, whelp.”

Aofil takes the outstretched hand and stands up on wobbly knees. “Ten minutes? I can show you the cave entrance,” Aofil proposes.

“You know where it is?” Undyne shoves Aofil in front of her again. “Let’s go, we’ll rest when we get there.”

Eventually they both sink down on the edge of the plateau with their legs dangling over the cliff with the mouth of the cave where it all started. The midday sun is blazing them with all its might and they both take another swig of water to ease the heat, Undyne a bit more than Aofil.

She squints against the sun and leans forward on one hand with a pleased exhale. Aofil feels comfortable enough not leaning over the cliff, they’re good with just their legs over it.

“You think we can find your house, Undyne?” Aofil nudges Undyne. “It’s a bit different seeing the town from up here. I’ll show you.” She nods with an excited smile.

Aofil points a bit to the side. “See, there’s my house, and then you walk along the main road,” Undyne follows their finger with bathed breath, “then you take a right there.”

“By that blue house?”

Aofil spots three houses that could be classified as blue, “Blue, how? Like Sans’ jacket?”

Undyne shoves Aofil playfully. “No, like the echo flowers.”

Aofil shoves her back. “I’ve never seen one.”

Undyne narrows her brow. “Um, yes you have.”

Her smile, despite being as joyful as ever, worries Aofil. Hopefully she thinks that Aofil’s just seen an echo flower, not what the echo flower said.

Aofil fakes a laugh. “Yeah, sorry. I guess I have. Whatever, yes, that’s where you take a right, and then-”

“I see it!” Undyne interrupts. “Wow, this is,” her lips starts quivering again, “this is so awesome!” she exclaims.

Aofil taps her shaking shoulder. “Undyne?” She turns around with the most conflicted of expression. Her smile is stretching her chins to the breaking point, and her teeth blind Aofil, but her eyes are wet as the Waterfall. “Your eyes are sweating,” Aofil informs her.

She dries them off. “It’s hot, OK. No laughing, punk,” he sniffles. “You’re not allowed.”

“Relax, I’d also cry the first time I felt the mountain wind in my hair and the warming sun in my face.”

Undyne inhales a huge amount of air. She breathes it out along with an annoyed grunt. “How are you so, so normal about this?” Undyne accuses with a flail of her hand.

Aofil lays down on their back. “About what?” They put an arm over their eyes. ”The sun?”

“Yeah, like, how are you not praising it? It’s amazing!” she sighs again. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing it.”

“Ha,” Aofil scoffs, “when it hits you in the eyes in the morning you’ll wish for the nice curtain that was Mt. Ebott.”

“See, how can you do that?”

“I guess I’m used to it that’s all.”

“Not me, not never.”

Aofil sits up again. “Isn’t that bad?”

Undyne drinks another gulp of water with a confused mouth. “What?”

“You know, not wanting to be bored by it. Wouldn’t that mean that you’ll never be used to it? Never really fully return to the Surface.”

Undyne opens her mouth to answer, but she says nothing. Her head sinks down on her hand and she stares at the landscape in front of her. Aofil leans back, to give her some space to think. They admit to themselves that they’re curious to see her reaction, to see how she reacts now that she isn’t used to it. Wait, are they taking advantage? Is this OK to do?

“Haha, I see what you’re doing,” Undyne rolls over her shoulder and flips up on her feet. “You’re trying to confuse me before our match.”

“Oh, I didn’t-”

“Oh, yes you did, human!” Undyne throws a spear next to Aofil. “Now,” and summons one for herself, “let’s do this. You can touch it, it won’t hurt you.”

She kicks up dirt as she assumes her fighting position. “Can’t make the same promise though.”

Aofil picks it up and weighs it in their hand. It’s light, in both senses, yet still firm enough to be comfortable blocking with. They balance it on a finger and just like before they can’t seem to find where the center of gravity ends. It stays in their hand no matter how they hold it. The edge is blunt, to not kill during their training, they assume. They kick up some dust as well as they mimic Undyne’s positioning.

Undyne smashes the handle of her spear into the ground. “A battle with an adult human on the Surface, on Mt. Ebott, with the sun and wind in my face.” She bends down, “This truly is the best ending!” and charges Aofil.

Aofil spins their spear as well. “Bring it!”

Half a moment later Aofil’s on the ground coughing from the impact. The dirt on their face isn’t helping either.

Undyne scratches their head. “You,” she looks a bit disappointed, “you OK? Did I go too hard? I thought humans were stronger than monsters.”

Aofil’s upraised finger asks Undyne to wait a second so that they can catch the air that was knocked out of them. Undyne nods, trying very hard to hide their displeasure.

Aofil coughs out the last of the impact and stands up while stretching their arms over their head. “I,” they cough again, “I’m sorry, wanna go again?”

Undyne pats Aofil carefully on the shoulder. “If you’re up for it?”

“Sure!” Aofil spins the spear in their hand again. They can feel it struggling to stay there.

Again they stand face to face, human versus monster. In the blazing midday sun they prepare for another duel to determine who is the strongest. They both position themselves and this time Aofil is on the attack.

Another half of a moment breezes by quickly as Undyne effortlessly counters Aofil’s attack. They moan as the back of their spear bounces on their stomach.

“Aofil?” Undyne asks as Aofil brushes themselves off again.

They pick up their spear while massaging their stomach. “Yes?”

“Do you want me to show you some basics?”

Aofil spits out some dirt. “I’d love it if you did.”

“First off, whelp,” Undyne starts. She shows Aofil the proper way to hold her spear. She describes how she creates it and how it’s important to the grip. “Knees bent, hands a shoulder’s width between,” she continues. Aofil sees her smile turn genuine as they slash the air holding the spear as she showed them. “Good job, for a punk,” she laughs. Aofil tries to cheekily poke her while her guard is down, but Undyne easily blocks it.

“Hahaha, nice thinking, human. Too bad I’m awesome, otherwise you would’ve hit me,” she praises. Or at least, Aofil thinks it was praise. She then squats down and draws a bunch of shapes in the sand with her spear. Aofil follows as best as they can as Undyne explains different stances and how to counter them. When to be aggressive and when to hold back. This goes on until her mouth is as dry as the ground she’s drawing on.

She refreshes herself with another swig. ”Got it?” Aofil nods, they know the gist of it. Undyne smiles, “Good. Now, here’s how to utilize your reach,” and continues her lesson. Her obscure anime references goes over Aofil’s head, but again, they get the gist of it. Just smile and nod, she’s enjoying herself. They do notice her breathing quickening from talking so much so fast. Aofil is still fascinated over her seemingly endless lung capacity. It’s not the first time they’ve heard her talk while panting.

Undyne finishes her lesson with more sweat than Aofil’s ever seen her wear. “Now you know a bit more about the punk buster, me. Let’s go again!”

Aofil bumps her fist. “You’re going down this time.”

Undyne laughs as she meets the fist. “Looking forward to it.”

The ever so warm sun smiles upon the participants and gives them its blessing. Human versus monster, now a bit more equal. How equal is to be determined.

Undyne summons new spears for her and her opponent. “I’ll go first, you block me!” She attacks a second after.

Aofil manages to parry her first blow and they feel a smirk form. They use her weight against her and slides her spear off theirs, exposing her back. They thrust their spear, but Undyne ducks quickly and sweeps Aofil off their feet.

Undyne offers her hand. “After all I taught you.”

Aofil takes it. “Looks like you’re a worthless teacher.”

She scoffs, “Good thing I don’t have to teach you how not to be a whelp,” and dusts off her sparring partner. “I got my hands full with Alphys already.”

Undyne runs back to her side. “Now you attack me.”

Aofil examines her pose to determine the best approach. They notice that her right leg is out of place and that her shoulders are low. They have an idea. ”You ready?” they warn.

Undyne nods. “Yeah, I’m,” she pauses for a breath, “ready.”

Aofil runs with their spear in their right hand. As they see Undyne switch weight to her left side they sidestep and easily chucks her right leg up in the air.

She falls heavily and Aofil cheers in triumph. “The human is victorious!” They flex like Undyne would and await her laugh.

It’s quiet. Aofil also notices that they’re hand is holding nothing. Where is their spea-

“Shit!”

Undyne is laying still on the ground, face down. Aofil grabs her wet shoulder and turns her around. “Undyne?” they ask her. “Undyne, it’s not funny.”

Wait, they remember this, and after some failed attempts because of their sweaty hand they manage to unscrew their water bottle. They dowse her face and she gasps for air. Aofil helps her sit up. “You good?”

Undyne nods. “Yeah, I’m good, Aof. Thank you.”

“It’s about time for lunch, shall we jog home?”

Undyne collects herself. “Yeah, we should.”

Her shaken voice worries Aofil. She stays quiet for the entirety of the jog back to her house, and it's not exactly making the situation any better.

“Aofil?” Undyne asks as they both ease down in front of her porch. “Could we keep this between us? I don’t want to worry Alphee.”

Aofil nods. “If you say so.”

She smiles and enters with the same glee as she had when she left. “I’m back, Alphee! Where are you, nerd?”

Alphys peeks out of a door with a welding mask flipped up over her head. “Hello, Undyne. You too, Aofil.”

Aofil waves.

Undyne dunks them on the back. “I’m gonna start with the food, feel free to shower, shrimp. You can drop off my clothes in the laundry basket. It's under the faucet.”

“About time I get to use yours. I’m gonna take my time, if you don’t mind!” Aofil closes the bathroom door behind them. “To make it fair!” they shout through it.

Aofil hears Undyne laugh again through the bathroom door. Muffled threats towards tomatoes and other food makes it ways through as well. Aofil again struggles to get out of their clothing. This time it’s because of the sweat and not some unruly zipper strapped to a cumbersome cloak. They can almost hear the ‘plop’ sound as they finally get the shirt off over their head.

The water flows nicely over them, washing away the dirt and sweat. They close their eyes. It almost feels like the first day. The first day before the reset, not now, that is. Hopefully this house’s plumbing is a bit more cleverly constructed than their own house.

Aofil’s interrupted by a knock on the door and they turn off the water. “At least an hour more until it’s fair, Undyne,” they shout against the door.

“Um, I,” it stammers back, with Alphys’ voice, “Und-dyne was wondering what you want to drink.”

“Anything really, surprise me,” Aofil answers.

“What do they want?” Undyne asks, presumably from the kitchen.

“Surprise,” Alphys shouts back.

A moment passes.

“We don’t have any of that. Is it a human drink?”

“I d-don’t know, let me ask them.”

“There’s no human drink called ‘Surprise’,” Aofil answers before Alphys can ask them.

“There’s none,” Alphys relays.

“I know! That’s why I’m asking,” Undyne replies.

Aofil wraps a towel around themselves and opens the door, startling Alphys in the process. “Undyne?”

“Yes, whelp?”

“Do I have to pour water in your ears as well? I don’t mind what you have, it’s fine. I’ll drink whatever.”

Undyne hair pokes out from the kitchen followed by the rest of her. “You’ll regret asking for that, neeb,” she warns.

“If I can survive your training I can survive your drinks.”

She dives back in. “You got me there, human.”

Aofil shakes their head before apologizing to Alphys for scaring them.

“It-t’s OK, Aofil.”

Aofil goes back inside and turns on the water again. They lean back and laugh to themselves. Even after this reset, these monsters still surprise them. They pick up a bottle of... Scale lotion? It smells like, pink. Aofil nods to themselves, another mystery solved. They rub some on their arm, seems to work on skin too.

As they step out of the shower something catches their nose. Something, off. Is it their clothes? No. Themselves? No, they smell pink. What is it then? They recognize it from, somewhere? Somewhere before the reset? Yes. But when, and where?

The answer seeps through the gap above the bathroom door. It’s just how Aofil remembers it, a dark cloud summoned by Undyne’s cooking.

“Dammit.”


	7. Smoke and then water

"You need help, Aofil?"

The sock in their hand curls up and Aofil struggles to confine their irritation from bursting out and is forced to put their hands over their mouth. After a calming exhale they lean back on the cold curb and try again to get their sock on.

"I know how hard it is to get wet socks on," Undyne continues. "You really have to roll it up all small and stuff."

Aofil lifts a finger that begs for Undyne's silence. "Undyne," they address her very carefully, "you sure this is the right question to ask at the moment?"

Undyne fans away some embers. "What do you mean?"

“Like, I don’t know?” Aofil throws their hand, "How did you manage that?" and present the inferno that was Undyne and Alphys' house. Like snakes the flames dance on the modern home, licking up everything in its path. A window explodes from the heat and Alphys jumps.

"I thought that the human stoves could handle my dete-" Undyne is interrupted by an elbow in her side from Alphys.

"Determination?" Aofil pries.

The soot on Alphys and Undyne does nothing to hide their color draining from them. Aofil realizes their mistake and they shift their face into worry to try to hide their blunder. “Sorry, is it something bad?”

Alphys nods.

“It’s something we didn’t think you’d know,” Undyne explains with a small shiver to her voice. “We thought it only existed in the Underground.”

Aofil tilts their head up in acknowledgment despite knowing that it is a lie. They dodged a bullet, again. They remind themselves, again, to keep their tongue in check, their luck might run out. With a final pull they finally manages to get their sock on. They slip into their darkened shoes and stand up.

They find themselves in a thick cloud of foul smelling smoke and they sit right back down again. On top of the toxicity of the smoke they’ll rather not go through another episode like before. They guess that it was because of some magical residue or something in the smoke. But from who?

They tilt their head towards the monsters next to them. Undyne’s magic is strong, but Aofil has only seen her conjuring spears. Wait, didn’t she say something about green magic? Aofil inspects the layer of toxic fumes above them, but it doesn’t seem particularly green to them.

What about Alphys? Aofil leans forward to get a view of them. Yeah, what about Alphys? She had, um... Aofil snaps their fingers to jog their head.

“What are you thinking about?” asks Alphys.

Tinkering, yes. That’s her magic. Whatever that means. She’s good at that, Aofil admits, very good in fact. But what exactly does it mean, exactly?

“Hey, Alphys?” they ask before catching their tongue in the last second. They can’t just ask, they’re not supposed to know about it. Damn these time shenanigans.

“Yes, Aofil?”

Aofil stalls for time with their hand. “Um, shouldn’t we hide or something?”

“Why would we do that?” Undyne intersects. “Also, hide from whom?”

“The fire department, the human fire department.”

“Ah, the one you called?” Undyne nods.

“The one I tried to call, yeah,” Aofil motions for the house again, it’s now fully engulfed by the fire, “but since there’s no landline I couldn’t get through. But they’ll come eventually,” and then waves their hand in the smoke. “This is not a normal sight for us humans. Someone’s bound to call. I’m not sure how they’ll react seeing you here. They might even think that you were responsible for it.”

Alphys and Undyne glance at each other and Undyne opens her mouth. “Um, we kinda were.”

Aofil waves away the comment. “You know what I mean, that they’d think you did it out of malice. They would probably have other questions as well so I guess we should let them do their thing alone while we sneak off. If we hurry we could probably get to my place before the rain starts. Unless anyone else is home?”

Undyne’s emerging smile parts the black ash on her face. “Rain?”

“Yeah, I saw some dark clouds heading this way.” Aofil bends themselves under the ashen cloud above them. ”You coming?”

Undyne follows Aofil up. “Yup, the rest are out on errands and stuff,” she freezes. “Oh no, Toriel will see this.”

Alphys’ eyes also shoot wide open in realization and she grips her tail. “And Asgore!” Her grip tightens. “The machine,” she whispers out.

Undyne shakes her head, “You’re not going back in for some toy you made, Alphys,” before also freezing in place. “No, the anime,” she turns her head towards the house, but Aofil stops her by grabbing firmly onto her arm.

“Don’t be stupid, you go in there you’ll faint again. You’ve already done it once today, and that’s one too many. We’ll figure something out when we get back to my place,” they whisper so that Alphys doesn’t hear in an attempt to calm Undyne down. Luckily she relaxes just before Aofil loses their grip.

Undyne narrows her brow. “I wasn’t about to just charge in there.”

Aofil lets Undyne go. “Oh, um, sorry.”

Undyne smiles. “Good form on the lock though, seems like something got through to you.”

An alternating siren accompanies flashes of red and blue, and Aofil beckons for the forest. “We’ll take a detour. You remember the way, Undyne?”

Undyne grabs Alphys and follows Aofil through the trees. “We should be behind the echo flower house now, correct?”

“Echo flower house?” Alphys wonders from atop of Undyne’s shoulders, her hands covering her head from the trees around her, but Undyne is agile enough to not hit any twigs.

“Yes, we should be behind it now. We’ll go around the church and-” Aofil spots the rain clouds gathering over their house. “Never mind, we’re gonna risk it and cross a yard. If we move fast enough they’ll only catch your silhouette. Button your coat and keep your chin down and tail hidden, Alphys.”

The three darkened friends move like shadows through the trees. Ash and soot falls off them with every dodge of shrubbery and branches. Aofil glances periodically towards the clouds moving ever closer. They’re not in that big of a hurry this time around. No hole to patch up, no paint to keep dry. Still, they’d like to get out of these soot covered clothes as soon as possible, and if they can, keep Undyne and Alphys out of sight.

A few close calls later they arrive on Aofil’s doorstep. They pat themselves and find their key after a couple of panicked seconds.

Undyne bends down so that Alphys gets through the door. “Could we borrow-”

“My shower?” Aofil interrupts.

“We’ll be quick this time,” Undyne promises with a smile. She sprints up the stairs leaving a trail of soot falling gently down behind her on the floor and a strip very similar to the one she left at the Town Hall. Aofil decides to stay in the hallway, if they move they’ll just make a bigger mess than there already is.

A series of knocks on their front door startles them. Aofil stifles a loud curse as ash falls down and nestles itself comfortably in between the floorboards.

They fling open the door. “Yes?” they answer despite not calming down entirely.

The man outside flinches and almost drops his notebook and pencil. He eyes Aofil’s darkened form before plastering an innocent grin on his lips. “Good day, I come from the local press and I’d like to ask you a few questions if you have the time.”

Aofil raises an eyebrow before realizing that it won’t be visible. “The free one?”

The journalist nods proudly. “It’s free for the people, that’s our motto. To bring you the best and most unbiased news there is.”

Aofil doesn’t move a muscle.

“Anyways,” the journalist tries again, “we’re conducting an investigation.” He leans in closer, but moves a bit back when Aofil leans in as well. “About the monsters. Have you read today’s paper?”

“In a sense, yes.”

The journalist is confused by Aofil’s snicker, but he shakes it off. ”Then you know that monsters have returned?”

Aofil is unable to stop their smile from growing. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen a few of them around.”

The journalist’s face lights up in anticipation and he licks his pencil. “Tell me, which have you seen? What did they do?”

“I don’t really know what I saw. Do you have any description to help me?”

The journalist nods excitedly, “Yeah, sure, let’s see,” and flips through his notes. “Ah, here we go. There’s been sightings of large, white, and somewhat cow shaped monsters around the Mayor’s office.

Aofil’s cheeks fight to contain their amusement. “Cows, you say? Interesting.”

“Yes. There’s also been reports of a large skeleton terrorizing the street.”

“How,” a small laugh escapes Aofil’s grasp. “Sorry about that. How are they terrorizing the street?”

The journalist scours the page. “Something about it trying to kidnap old ladies.”

Aofil can’t believe their ears. “Papyrus?”

The journalist looks up from his notes. “No, it’s my handwriting. I don’t write machine.”

An awkward silence hangs for a couple of seconds as they both try to deduce what the other person just said.

“And also,” the journalist resumes after an awkward cough, “there’s was something about a dinosaur shaped like an obese child with a tail.”

Aofil folds in half and the floor below them is once again covered in soot. They take support on the door frame and lets out another guffaw. The journalist takes a step back, both to protect himself from the ash, and because of the sudden burst of laughter.

He hesitates to extend a helping hand. “You OK?”

Aofil manages to halt their laugh for a moment. “Yeah. It caught me off guard, sorry.”

The journalist flips back the pages on his notebook. “So, um, have you seen any?”

Aofil hears wet footsteps behind them. “No, sorry, none of those sound familiar.” They grab the door, “Bye, good luck with your investigation,” and closes the door in the waving journalist’s face.

Their remaining smile turns upside down as they see the black hand print they left on the wood.

A wet finger taps their shoulder. “Told you we would be quick,” Undyne nods as she dries off the soot on Aofil’s now gray towel she’s wrapped herself with. “Where can we hang our clothes?”

A faint but consistent tapping on the window is quickly replaced by a torrent of water crashing heavily down. Aofil manages to dodge the window still this time and they peek through the blinders. “Not outside, I’m afraid.” They spot the journalist entering his car and follows it with their eyes as it rounds the corner.

Alphys scratches some water out of her ear. “Rain?”

A crack of lightning illuminates the room. Aofil counts the time, and a couple of seconds later the thunder hits, shaking the house like a small earthquake.

“Not close. Good, means I can shower.” They turn around. “You two doing alright?”

Alphys’ tail is locked tight between her hands. The same can be said for her, Undyne’s got her in a grip no locksmith could ever open. Alphys is having a hard time breathing.

Aofil scoffs. “It’s just thunder. Come on, you’ve heard it,” they catch themselves in the nick of time, ”zero times.”

Undyne eases her grip. “I know! Didn’t think it would be so-”

Another flash lights up their frightened faces and Aofil counts the seconds again. A bit closer now, but still far enough. “Loud?” they ask as the thunder secedes.

“Thunderous,” Alphys corrects. “By the way, why are you counting?”

“Didn’t I tell you before that sound travels? Like light?”

Alphys thinks for a short while before nodding to herself. “Yes, light was much quicker than sound,” she measures the distance with her claws, “and because of that it takes longer for sound to travel from the point of impact.”

Another thunder cracks and she squeals in fright. Aofil nods. “You’re right on the money, Alphys.”

“Well, yeah, of course she is!” Undyne intercepts with a huff. “She’s the Royal Scientist.”

Alphys shifts her eyes before agreeing.

Aofil heads for the staircase. “Anyway, I’ll hang up your clothes to dry somewhere.”

“I-I could probably build something if I had some tools. I saw a hairdryer and I t-think I can make it better,” Alphys suggests.

“Tools are in the shed,” Aofil pauses. “The very wet shed, unfortunately.”

Undyne flexes, “I got it, human. Your Surface rain ain’t got nothing on me,” and heads toward the kitchen door.

“I got keys for the shed!” Aofil reminds. “If you would be so kind could you use them instead of kicking down the door.”

“I weren’t.”

“Yes, you were,” Aofil points towards the key cabinet next to the front door. “It’s the ring with the green lawn mover.”

Aofil can hear Undyne mumble something about Asgore replacing the shed door so it’s not a problem if she kicks it down before they enter the bathroom for another shower.

On the towel rail hangs wet and slightly darkened clothes, Alphys and Undyne’s. Underneath is a puddle of dark gray water. Aofil mops it away and puts a bucket in its place. They then wash off their own clothes and hang it up next to the other.

Shower. Again. Shower with rain outside. Not again. Another lightning strike hits approximately, Aofil counts, seven seconds away. It’s moving closer, but still not close enough.

The storm seems more violent this time around. What gives? Aofil leans back to ponder. They’ve not done anything that could affect the weather? Or have they? They think for a bit.

Meeting them differently can’t affect, breaking a sofa can’t affect. Piano music? Nah.

Ah, the grass. They didn’t burn it this time. Though, the pile was not big enough to cause any change. It would’ve been much, much larger to do something noticeable. Let’s see, what else?

“Um, Aofil?”

They turn off the water. “Yes, Alphys? You want the hairdryer?”

No answer. Aofil guesses that she nodded in response and is now blushing with embarrassment. They grab the hairdryer and open the door.

Alphys is covering her red face with both of her hands. She lifts one and takes the hairdryer before quickly disappearing down the stairs. Guess Aofil was right about that.

Aofil flicks on the water again, squirts some gel into their hand, and attempts to wrestle the soot out of their hair. Now, where were they? What else has happened? They look down. Oh yeah, they saw their soul. They say the words out loud and it sounds just as ridiculous.

They hover their hand over their chest. Can they do it again? Bring it out? They flex their fingers, nothing. They grab where it emerged, nothing. They close their eyes and try to visualize it in their hand. The warm and red glow, the cracks, the missing piece. It was pulsating softly, like their real heart. Something touches their hands, something that isn’t water from the shower. Something warm, and sticky? Aofil opens their eyes.

A small clump of ash lies in their hand. With a disappointed frown they shake it off and pat themselves on the chest. “You’re probably better staying inside there to be honest. Wouldn’t want my determination spilling everywhere.” They hang on the word 'determination'. Something’s not quite right.

Aofil snaps their head up, flicking clumps of ash on the tiles behind them. Determination! Undyne said that she had it! Does she think of the monster’s destruction as well when exposed to magic? Aofil shakes away the idea, flicking more clumps around them. No, that can’t be right.

They finally manage to get the last gunk out of their hair and they rinse it down the drain. With that out of the way they turn the shower head to their surrounding to clean the ash off before it sticks permanently.

Is monster determination different from human determination? Is her soul also red? Is it really a curse if everyone has it? Dammit, they can’t ask, not yet.

Aofil shuts off the water and dries themselves off with the last clean towel. They wrap it around themselves and try one more time to summon their soul. It’s fruitless. They shrug and leave the bathroom to fetch some clothes with colors other than soot gray.

Undyne has left the patio door open, Aofil notices as they head into the kitchen. As they close it they notice wet footsteps leading into the dining area. Aofil is reminded that they’ve not fixed the window by a growing puddle on the window still. They walk back to the kitchen and grab a roll of paper towels. They dry the window still and roll out the rest of the paper on it. They’ll figure out something more permanent later.

The sound of metal hitting metal causes Aofil’s head to turn. “Ah, you done tinkering?” they ask Alphys.

She pokes a coil with her screwdriver. “I’m trying to figure out what this is.”

“Can’t help you there, unfortunately.”

She pokes it again, but this time she hovers her other hand over it. With a focused look she nods to herself and flick her claw. The motor inside whirs loudly and then relaxes. She nods again and mutters to herself in thought. “So it’s about heat.”

Aofil gives her a pat on the back wishes her luck in her fiddling. She nods absently.

“She’s in her nerd mode,” Undyne explains from the living room. Aofil joins her after some careful maneuvering around her wet footprints. “She’ll be back to her normal geeky self in a moment.”

Aofil stops dead in their tracks. “Undyne?”

She peeks up from her manga. “Yes, whelp?”

Aofil points to the cloth around her. “Why is your towel dry?”

She furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”

“It’s raining outside.”

Undyne nods. “Yes?”

“And you went outside.”

She nods again, a bit more sarcastically. “Yes?”

“In the rain. You know, the wet rain.”

Her eye narrows, “You think I went out there,” and her smile flashes as she tugs at her towel, “without it?”

Aofil looks out the open window. At the flat grass, and her running through it. They shake the images out of their head and Undyne laughs at the spectacle. She flicks her wrist and a spear with a concave end forms in her hand. She holds it over her head and laugh even louder when she sees Aofil’s dumbfounded face. “You humans are strange,” she chuckles as the magical umbrella sizzles away.

“Look who’s talking!”

“I-I think I’m done,” Alphys informs as she waddles in with the hairdryer in her hand.

Aofil gives her a thumbs up. “Ah, neat. Let’s go upstairs and test it.”

They all enter the upstairs bathroom and Aofil plugs it into a socket, to their relief it doesn’t short circuit the entire house. “OK, so how does it actually work?”

“I-I infused it with a bit more magical power, should be more efficient.”

“Fair enough, let’s test it.”

Aofil moves it closer and powers it on. Two purple legs sprout out of it and it jumps out of their hand. It runs up to the towel rack and starts drying the clothes.

Aofil inspects their now empty hand with a disbelieving face. “Efficient as in it works alone?”

Alphys taps her claws nervously. “Y-yeah, I should’ve probably told you that.”

The hairdryer seems happy to work alone. Too happy, according to Aofil. It’s the second tool they’ve had that’s run away from them. Just a matter of time now before Alphys programs their house to tap dance down the street.

They carefully step over the flailing cord. “Shall we do something while we wait for it to finish?”

“You said something about anime?” Undyne smiles sheepishly.

“Sure, why not?” Aofil nods. “I’ll see if I can fix some snacks.” They head for the stairs. “My computer is in the room after the master bedroom. Should be easy enough for you to figure out how to get it going, just open the internet.”

Undyne grabs Alphys and bolt towards the room.

After some searching Aofil finds a bag of popcorn. They put it in the microwave and while it’s popping they replace the soaked towels on the window still with another roll. They also clean up the remaining wet footsteps before the microwave dings.

They pour the popcorn into a bowl. “You guys found something?”

“Yeah,” Undyne answers, “I think I found something.”

Aofil samples a popcorn as they take a step onto the staircase. “What’s it about?”

“Something about people doing some strange battles, never seen it before. A lot of girls in different clothes. There’s magic involved.”

“Sounds very anime to me. You like that sorta thing?”

“Grown up stuff? Yeah.”

A suspicion dawns on Aofil as they near the room. “Grown up, how? More importantly, how did you find it?”

They push the door open.

“We just searched for adult anime,” Undyne answers before starting the video.


	8. You wanted paper or plastic?

"Undyne, Alphys, let's keep this between us."

They both nod in silence.

"I thought," Undyne wants to explains.

Aofil stops her. "It's OK, Undyne. Let's just leave it here."

Alphys wrings her shirt. "Sorry that we downloaded it."

"I'll delete it."

They all try desperately not to meet each other’s eyes as Undyne and Alphys heads out the door. Shouldn’t be a problem keeping a low profile with all this rain, but Aofil is still a bit worried they’ll be seen by any humans though.

Undyne conjures a faint umbrella that covers her and Alphys. Some quiet sizzling as the rain hits the magic reaches Aofil’s ear, but without knowing where it came from they probably wouldn’t think that it was magic. Probably.

They shake their head, better not risk it. “Undyne, take mine instead,” they shout into the rain and toss a more human looking umbrella towards them. “We humans don’t really have luminescent umbrellas.” Undyne catches it elegantly and flips it open. Aofil closes their door and the rain goes from deafening to cozy as they return upstairs.

Their computer screen is frozen and the frame it shows fills them with, confusion. The worst part is, they don’t feel disgusted, and they hate themselves for that. They delete it before they can change their mind, however slim that chance may be. A text box flashes on their screen as the file disappears warning them that they have a virus.

“They couldn’t have known, they’ve never used one. Calm down,” Aofil reminds themselves as they start a scan of their computer. Three hours is the estimated time.

What now? What to do? Besides pouring bleach into their eyes? How about working on their credentials, the thing that they were supposed to do today?

Their stomach grumbles loudly in protest. Aofil looks down on the spilled popcorn that was thrown in the air as they jumped for the pause button. Now it lays sprawled over their floor like pebbles on a beach. If they can avoid it, they’d rather not eat them. But they’ll sweep it later, food first.

The empty cupboards and fridge reminds them that they haven’t gone to the store this time around. A hollow cry echoes from their stomach as they open the freezer. There’s one thing there that can be eaten, but Aofil’s not sure if they want.

“No,” they whisper out.

“Yes!” screams their stomach.

The glass container is cold and what’s inside is even colder. Aofil taps on it with a spoon, it’s rock solid.They wonder how it’ll smell once they warm it up. Their imagination runs wild and combined with the rumbling they feel a bit unwell. They defrost it in the microwave regardless as being hungry will only make it worse.

They return upstairs and sweep up the popcorn while simultaneously fighting their urge to eat some. The microwave dings a while later and Aofil lifts the tray out with a pair of oven mittens. They take a small sniff, smells mostly of dough. Phew.

The pie provides a bit of resistance, but as the knife cuts deeper it hits liquid, and Aofil’s stomach turns. No, it shouldn’t be liquid. Did they microwave it for too long?

They lift up the piece and what was once was a snail is now spilling onto the countertop with a splash. Aofil’s starting to regret this.

They scrape the melted snail into the sink and flush it down. Guess that they’re just gonna eat the dough. After they scrape away as much snail slime as they can, that is.

It’s dry, very dry, but at least it’s solid and not slimy like the snails. Aofil puts a hand over their mouth and berate themselves for reminding them about the slime and the guts.

“Just eat it. Don’t think about it, just eat it,” their stomach begs with a bit more sympathy.

Aofil closes their eyes and swallows away the nausea. With a shaky hand they take a bite. They roll it around in their mouth, trying to find the faintest hint of snail. They don’t find any and exhale in relief.

The rest of the pie goes down quickly, thankfully. With renewed strength Aofil returns to their writing desk. They crack their knuckles dramatically and pick up their pencil.

Half an hour later their head is on the desk. On the page is just one line of text, their name and address. They’ve no idea what they’re doing, and now they got nothing to blame it on. They sigh for the third time in the span of a minute and roll on their cheek. Their fourth sigh blows their pencil off the desk. They make no effort to catch it.

“How am I bored?” they ask the air in front of them. “I got a soul, monster friends, and a hairdryer with legs.” They blow the paper off the desk, might as well. “Sans, if you’re listening, can you shortcut me to the store so that I can justify not writing this?”

Silence, like the wind. Aofil’s hopes shines and they focus on the air around them. The smallest gust could be him.

They catch themselves looking very silly doing so and they sink down in their chair for a while before bending over to pick up their paper.

“you rang?”

The table rattles violently as Aofil’s head hits its underside with a loud bang.

“what’s that expression, knock on wood?”

Aofil massages their head while breathing through clenched teeth. One tear manages to escape their eye before they get their pain under control.

“in your case it’s head on wood, aof.”

Aofil stiffens their upper lip, “How did you know?” before breathing out some more pain.

Sans shrugs, “i didn’t, whatever it was,” and opens his wet jacket. “undyne told me to bring you this.”

Aofil grabs the soaking umbrella. It drips for a couple of seconds before they realize that it shouldn’t be here. They beckon for Sans to follow them and he drags his feet after them.

Aofil returns their umbrella to its stand. “It was nice of you to come around though, besides the umbrella. I need you to shortcut us to the store so that I can stock up with groceries. Not much food at home. Help a friend out, skelebro.”

“how good friends were we before the kid’s reset?”

“Why do you ask?” Aofil thinks they detect the faintest blue glow in Sans’ eye. “Is it because it’s trivial?” They massage their head again. No blood on their hand, good. “You seem happy enough to shortcut at the best opportunities. Admit it, you enjoy doing this.”

Sans stance relaxes much to Aofil’s surprise. They didn’t think he could be more relaxed.

“The least you can do is help me with the groceries.”

Sans shrugs.

Aofil picks up the darkened and wrinkled money from the table next to them. “I’ll get you some premium ketchup as payment,” they sweeten with a wink.

Sans grabs Aofil’s hand. “sounds like we were good friends.”

“Wait, I can’t go there with these clothes on me. They’re just for slouching at home, not-” Aofil protests just before they find themselves around the corner from the store.

Rain is falling heavily around them and strands of hair fall into their vision. “Guess that isn’t relevant now.”

“you said.”

Aofil swats the strands away from their face. “Yes, I know. Thank you for getting us here.”

With a confident flip Sans covers his head with his hood and nestles in even more into his jacket. “anytime, aof.”

“Hood is good. Thank you for not wearing shorts as well, would be a pain to explain your shins. Especially to the pastor.”

The sliding doors opens as they near it.

“and the face, the hands, the fact that you’re friends with a monster,” Sans continues.

Aofil nods. “I take it you’re planning on keeping a low profile so I don’t have to go through the effort?”

Sans jumps into a shopping cart. “perhaps.”

The cart rattles again as Aofil leans on it with a sarcastic look towards Sans. “Can I expect your help with the actual shopping?”

“we’re friends.” Sans closes his eyes. “not soul mates.”

“It’s a good thing you don’t need to breathe, last time I shopped here I filled one of these to the brink, and then some.”

But the skeleton is fast asleep.

“We regret to inform our customers that a maximum of five of an item can be bought per family. We apologize for the inconvenience and wish our customers happy shopping,” a speaker informs, filling the general store. Not many people around this time, probably because of the weather.

A couple of bottles lands on Sans’ lap. He picks one up. “hair gel?”

Aofil throws in an extra bottle. “Undyne uses a lot.”

“i thought we were here to shop for you.”

“I,” Aofil interrupts.

“i thought i was here to shop for you,” Sans corrects with no change to his voice.

Aofil rolls their eyes. “Never one to miss an opportunity, Sans.”

“i miss a few”

Aofil can see where Sans is going.

“but my aim is getting better.”

And they don’t take any joy in being correct. Instead they dump another pile of groceries on him, purely on accident of course.

A bony finger manages to wrestle itself out from the hill of products and it points accusingly at Aofil. “you trying to make a statement or something about my humor?” Sans asks with his voice muffled by the bag of rice over his face.

Aofil hangs a shower sponge on his finger. “Would never dream of doing anything like that.”

With a wave of Sans' finger a glass bottle of ketchup falls down from a nearby shelf. Aofil reaches out to catch it, but they miss it.

Sans stops it gently just above the cart. He grabs it and pulls it into his nest of packages along with the sponge. “speaking of dreams,” he pops off the lid and take a swig, “mind telling me what all the ruckus was about last night?”

A package of assorted spices lands in the cart. “Yes, but I know that it won’t deter you from prying.”

“then i’m gonna take a guess and say that it was,” he fakes a thoughtful hum, “something that happened before the reset, probably bad.”

Aofil’s face remains unamused. “That’s a pretty broad guess to be honest.”

“and judging by the way you screamed i’d say that you dreamed about how you killed everyone.”

An avalanche of products entomb Sans as Aofil turns to stone. “How?” they try to say something else, but their heart is in their throat, they can’t get another word out.

Sans hovers a couple of containers of his head, “our sins follow us even through resets, aof. don’t sweat it though, you’re not the only one,” and takes another sip of ketchup. “the kid has their own set of sleeping scares as well. not tonight, obviously, but other times. that i’m positive about.”

It takes effort, but Aofil manages to force their heart back down. “Frisk?”

“yeah. it’s just something you have to live with from now on. that and the knowledge that you killed your friends.”

That’s it. Aofil spins the cart and dips their head towards the pile. “I don’t know how much you remember, but I didn’t kill them,” they snarl with fury. “Why don’t you tell me who your old friend is now that we’re reminiscing about the past that awaits us in the future? Because from I recall, that is what forced Frisk to reset. That is what killed them all.”

Sans caps the bottle. “he’s an old friend, all you need to know.”

Aofil’s stare hardens, “Is that so?” but Sans is unfazed.

Despite his lack of, Sans eyes Aofil. “i don’t remember exactly since i’m not blessed with your allergies,” he meets Aofil’s burning gaze with a forgiving calmness, “but if i went for him i had exhausted everything else. he’s not someone i go to first for answers. not only because he’s as difficult to get hold of as pap is during training with undyne. it would also have been the lesser of the evils i had left to choose from, and that is what scares me.”

Aofil grip relaxes on the cart. “And this business with telling me that I murdered everyone?”

“i don’t know which memories are real or just me trying to make sense of things. i’ve come to realize that the best thing to do is to ask directly. for what it’s worth, sorry.”

Aofil face softens as they’re forced to smile to a passerby with a very confused look on her face.

“I’m gonna risk lashing out against you, but is there anything else in your head that’s unclear, Sans?”

He chuckles. “there’s something about us buying snails for toriel.”

“Yeah, that’s just in your head,” Aofil agrees a bit too fast.

Sans notices. “you sure?”

Aofil hawks. “Yeah, positive.”

Sans shrugs. “anyway, that’s all in the past.”

With a stern push Aofil gets the cart rolling again. “Past past or future past?”

Sans waves the now empty bottle in his hand. “past the point of ketchup.”

“You know that I have to pay for it, right?”

Sans produces another bottle. “would be stealing if you didn’t. i know i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if i ever did that.” He casts a glance towards Aofil. “right?”

Aofil manages to let the glance glance off them while still keeping their posture. ”Would be horrible.”

The skeleton returns to his slumber. Aofil covers his mouth with the rice bag to dampen his snoring. They make sure to steer the cart over as many irregularities in the floor as possible on the off chance that the people might hear Sans.

The bag almost shakes loose, but Aofil makes a small cave for it to stay still.

“mt. sans,” comments the pile.

“I can survive falling down Mt Ebott, not sure I can survive falling down Mt Sans. It’s too hollow, nowhere to land after the fall.”

The pile rumbles. “good one.”

Not long after Aofil is forced to break the bad news to Sans. “Sorry, you have to get out now.” They excavate the sleeping skeleton. “We’re approaching the registers, can’t have them scan you.”

After a very long and fake yawn Sans climbs out. “you couldn’t afford me anyway.”

Aofil picks a bag of baking soda out of Sans’ hood before flipping it back up.

“And what’s going on over here?”

“Nothing really,” Aofil answers as they turn around. “My friend here just-” they stop in the middle of their sentence as they see who the voice belongs to.

“Just happened to have some baking soda in their hood? Strange that you just noticed it since the aisle is on the other side of the store.” The suit tilts her head. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

Aofil shuffles Sans behind them. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

The suit nods to herself. ”Yeah, I remember now. I visited you at the hospital. How are your wounds?”

With a quick pull Aofil covers their scarless arms. “They’re fine, thanks for asking.”

“What was it that put you in there now again, can’t for the life of me figure it out.” The suit brows narrow in thought. “Wasn’t it something about a plant?”

The scars might not be there, but the pain is still rooted in their very core. Aofil feels something inside of them sink, like their soul is cowering. Dammit, they thought they were over this. But thinking back at it, the pain, the fear. Why is it so vivid?

Aofil clutches their teeth as they massage their arm. “Yeah, a plant.”

The suit notices and she nods in understanding. “At least it’s healing, right?”

“Yeah,” Aofil agrees weakly.

“Cheer up, you’ll get through this. It’s a miracle that you can walk. It takes a lot of strength, take pride in that.”

The suit’s sympathy is genuine, and Aofil feels a bit better. “Thanks, I will do that.”

“I should be going now, but it was good seeing you,” the suit waves. “By the way, did you remember what date we set for our dinner with her?”

“with who?” Sans asks through Aofil’s legs.

“You know, with, um,” the suit stares blankly as her brain tries to work. “I don’t know, did we even make the reservations?” She fishes up their phone. “Wait, what was your name again?”

“aofil.”

“You sure? Never head it before.” The suit closes her phone. “Whatever, I’ll check it later, need to get some diapers for the kid before the wife gets sourer than the weather. Anyways, good luck.”

The suit disappears around the aisle and Aofil leans on the cart. “This is gonna drive me insane.”

Sans follows the suit through the shelves with his eyes. “like i said, it’s something you have to live with from now on. could happen that we’ll get lucky and survive past the reset point. then it’s back to not knowing for us all.” He scratches his nose. “nightmares will still be around, unfortunately, since the memories are bound to your soul.”

Aofil runs their hands over their face. “You’re not helping, Sans. Also, how do you know all of these things?”

“call it a hobby of mine, a side project.”

“You know anything that might help?”

Sans takes lead. “yes, but you wouldn’t like it.”

“Why not?”

“since i guess we’re friends,” he pauses for effect, “i’m not gonna say it.”

“What?” Aofil huffs. “What could possibly be worse than the things I’ve gone through? “

Sans turns around and meets Aofil with eyes as dark as the void. “the things i’ve gone through,” but after a couple of seconds his pupils fade back. “i’m not really in the mood to compare scars with you.” He snickers gently. “wouldn’t even work since we can’t see them.”

Sans turns back towards the register. “What? You’re just gonna drop it like that, Sans?” Aofil asks befuddled.

“let’s not dwell on the past,” he advises while looking down. “i already got one human i can’t convince, so if you could do it for me it would be nice.”

“But-”

“thanks,” Sans interrupts with a smile. He motions for the cashier, “queue is not long, let’s get in line,” and marches off.

Aofil rushes behind with the cart, but Sans is already waiting at the register. Can’t talk to him now.

“This ketchup bottle feels a bit light,” the cashier remarks. “You want to get another one?”

Sans burps and Aofil taps his shin with the side of their foot. “No, I’ll manage without it,” they smile to the cashier.

They get one in return and the total came in much lower than it was before. Aofil checks the receipt. Ah, no wheelbarrow or building material.

Their head shoots up. Wait, they do need some building material, for the window. They mutter a curse under their breath. “Sorry, Sans, I gotta get something else. Wait here.”

Aofil bolts inside again. What aisle was the iron? Ah, aisle 31. Nice, the hinges are where they remember. Perfect.

“Hey again, kid, how’re you coping?”

No, he’s not supposed to be here. It’s not the same, it’s later than it was before. Why is he here?

“Sorry about ratting you out,” the builder continues. “As I said, I had my own family to think about.”

“It’s fine,” Aofil answers without turning around. “Don’t worry.”

Aofil hears the builder scratch his head behind them. “Worry about what, exactly? Wait, you’re Aofil, right?”

Aofil nods.

“Yeah, you managed to avoid prison? I know I testified against you at that trial and all, but,” the builder pauses, “but I don’t know what for. You’re keeping yourself clean? Yeah, you’re a good kid, like your mom and dad. You wouldn’t get yourself in trouble.” His voice loses its stability. “Why am I not remembering? There was something about the monsters as well. No, what’s happening?”

Aofil walks away, they can’t listen to this anymore. Hopefully he’ll forget if they just go. Please, let them forget.

They pay for the hinges and put them in the same bags as the other stuff. They wave to the sleeping skeleton. “Let’s go.”

Sans catches the tone of Aofil’s voice. “what’s the matter?”

“I met another one with, memories.”

“oh.”

“Yeah. Let’s just go home." Aofil sighs heavily. They'd massaged their forehead if their hands weren't busy carrying their bags of groceries. "Before I can jog his memory further.”

Sans gives Aofil a hand. “sure thing.”


	9. Spit, sniff, but please don't swig

"You have any tips for avoiding that?"

The wind following Sans’ shortcut whistles through the house.

Sans burrows his arm in one of the bags, "avoiding memories?" and picks up a bottle of premium ketchup. His payment.

Aofil moves the bags into the kitchen and starts unpacking. “Yeah. Anything if you know, please.”

“well, the best thing would be to not talk to anyone.”

Aofil waits for a continuation, but there’s none. They cross their arms. “Is that it?”

Sans shrugs. “it’s the easiest solution.”

“I was thinking maybe something more substantial. Like, topics to avoid, signs to look out for. Something you can share from your side project?”

“not without bothering you further.”

Aofil finishes the first bag and begins unloading another. “So just good luck, or what?”

“well, you can try to avoid anything that might be relevant to things before the reset, look for jaws on the floor,“ Sans counts on his fingers, “try to convince them that it’s just deja vu, and so on.”

“So you got nothing that isn’t obvious?” Aofil shakes their head. “Big help there, Sans.”

“i’m trying to help you here, aof,” Sans retorts with a vicious tongue. “you’re not the only one here that’s gone through this. you’re not the only one that has to lie to your friends, and pretend that you don’t know even if it meant them harm.”

His ketchup bottle crashes on the tile floor and with a gust he shortcuts onto the countertop, knocking one of Aofil's bags over and spilling the contents on the floor. With hollow eyes he meets Aofil’s. “don’t think for a second that you’re the first one to experience this. because oh boy do i have some stories to tell you then.”

“Sans,“ Aofil’s head sinks, “I’m sorry. It’s just-”

Sans’ pupils return. “i know, i know. i’m sorry too, didn’t mean to go all mean sans on you, but you have to understand that it’s heavy stuff, for all of us.” He jumps back down on the floor. “no worries though, we’ll get through this. you, me, frisk,” he snickers, “and everyone else,” and hands Aofil a package that fell down from his shortcut.

“It’s gonna be hard,” Aofil puts it in a cupboard. “Speaking of Frisk, they the one you couldn’t convince?”

Sans hands Aofil another package. “yeah.”

Aofil puts it in the cupboard. ”About what, exactly?”

Sans hands Aofil another package, although this time he holds it out of reach for a split second. “i’d rather not tell you.”

Aofil puts it in the almost full cupboard. “If it could help me deal I’m afraid that I have to insist.”

Sans hands stop when Aofil reaches for another package, “it won’t,” but then he gives it.

The cupboard fights as Aofil tries to close it, but in the end it shuts. They hover their hand over it in case it bursts open. It seems to be safe for now though so they pick up a bag of chips and head for the living room.

They sink down in the sunken sofa, “This day, man,” and shove a couple of chips in their mouth.

Sans’ fingers find their way into the bag. “what was it you were doing in the cemetery anyways?”

“Visiting family.”

“that i figured. sorry about your loss, by the way.”

Aofil thanks with a full mouth. Luckily they manage to catch the crumbs flying out of it.

“i might sound harsh now, but that wouldn’t make a human outright puke, right?” Sans helps himself to another handful of chips. “or am i assuming?”

Aofil puts a piece on their tongue. “I saw my soul.”

Sans’ hand halts. “your soul?”

Aofil pats their chest. “Yup.”

“red?”

“Red.”

Sans disappears in thought. Aofil chews on another chip.

After a minute he turns back to Aofil. “can i see it?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I can’t really summon it willingly.” They grab their chest and focus. “Nope, nothing.”

Sans drums his fingers on his knee. “hm, could i try?”

“I’m allergic to magic, so I’d rather you didn’t do anything.”

“if i said it could help frisk?” Sans sweetens.

“It’s for your sake I’m saying no, Sans.”

Sans flexes his fingers. “i can look after myself.”

“You know what my allergy does?”

“i’ve had firsthand experience with it.”

The bag of snacks goes flying as Aofil dives towards Sans. “Chara? You know anything about them?”

Aofil’s grip is hard, locking Sans in place. Even though they know that he could just shortcut away at any moment they still need to do something. He knows about Chara, Aofil can’t let him go.

“Sans, anything. Please.”

He shakes his head, “you outta have a talk with frisk about them,” and sidesteps Aofil’s hands, “they know about them more than i could ever do.”

Aofil manages to regain their balance after some flailing with their arms that went from grabbing jacket to grabbing just air. “Then just tell me what you know, and I’ll fact check with Frisk,” they plead.

“if they mean so much to you,” Sans scratches his chin, “why didn’t you ask us more before?”

“And risk anyone else knowing that I’m their twin? How’d you think Asgore or Toriel would react to me being the human sibling to their dead child?”

Sans snaps his finger. “right, good thinking.”

“So?” Aofil asks again. “You gonna tell me?”

Sans waves his finger while keeping one eye closed. “no.”

“You serious?” Aofil scoffs in annoyance. “You actually goddamn serious right now?”

Sans nods.

“Look here,” Aofil squats down to Sans’ level. Something’s off, their balance is not quite right. Whatever, “this is my twin we are talking about. They literally fell out of my life, if you know anything.”

Sans’ pocket moves. “i know that they tried to kill you.”

Aofil grabs Sans by the collar. “You wanna repeat that?” They feel how poisonous their words sound, but they don’t care, he stepped over the line. “I said, would you like to repeat that, Sans?”

They wring him closer to them. They want nothing more than to punch that smug grin back into the Underground. “I’m gonna give you one more chance. Don’t step in my way here. Just tell me.”

They only get a chuckle in response and in the blink of an eye he disappears from Aofil’s grip again. ”you’re just like your twin,” he teases from out of sight.

Before Aofil can realize what just happened they’re thrown on the ground and flipped over. They try to stand up, but something is holding them down. No, not something, someone.

“Sans!” Aofil roars. They snap their head in all directions, but Sans is nowhere to be found. “You smiley trashbag, get back here.”

Is he just gonna leave Aofil here or what? Should’ve knocked him out when they had their chance. Lift him up by his round cheeks and flatten him out against the curb. Feel him scream, feel him turn into dust in their hands.

Aofil’s cheeks blossom.

Good.

“again, you really are your twin’s twin,” Sans’ voice bounces around the room before he breezes over to Aofil. He bends down and with a flick of his hand a blue bone materializes over Aofil’s chest. It hovers for a second before Sans commands it down. Aofil flinches.

A blue and irregular glow fills the living room as Aofil’s soul bursts out from their chest to stop Sans’ magical attack.

The bone stops. “wow,” Sans comments, awestruck at the shaking heart in front of him, “it’s broken.” With a careful hand he inspects it. “never seen one like this.”

Aofil looks at their soul. Blue? How is it blue? What has Sans done? Is he gonna break it even more? No, he can’t! It’s a part of Aofil, he’ll kill them.

“Sans, don’t!” Aofil begs. “Don’t touch it, it’ll kill me.”

The pleads snaps Sans back to reality. He sees that Aofil’s eyes are filled with fear and with a snap of his finger Aofil’s soul turns to red again and returns to safety.

Aofil feels a wave of sick spread across them as they feel their soul settle. “What did you?”

Sans releases them and Aofil shoots up before realizing how exhausted they are. They lay down again to try and catch their breath.

“as i said, i know your allergy, so i used some of my magic on you to see if i could bring out your soul. give it a glance, see if it compares to frisk’s.”

He helps Aofil up on their knees. “i’ve no idea how you got it to look like that. it’s not what i expected. although-”

Aofil pushes Sans away. “Could’ve just asked me instead of trying to kill me.” They quell a belch. “I feared for my life, Sans. Why did you do that?” They cover their chest with their hands. “Not cool,” they say with a lot of effort.

Sans eats another handful of chips. “you said you couldn’t summon it, so i had to force it out somehow. doing battle is the only way i know of.” He halts another chip for a second. “well, technically i know of a few, but they wouldn’t leave you alive.”

“Battle?” Aofil quells another belch. “So you actually tried to kill me?”

“no. of course not, why would i want to do that?”

Aofil shakes their head at his tone. “Then what was it? Just something you monsters do on the weekends? Attack each other just for fun?”

“only against humans,” Sans explains.

Aofil throws up a hand, “Well then that’s all fine and dandy!” before realizing that it was a bad idea to move around so quickly. A burp summoned from the deepest of their stomach escapes their mouth and they feel another wave crash over them.

Aofil struggles to hold their sick in. “Water, please.”

Sans shortcuts a glass of water for them and they drink very carefully. To Aofil’s relief it helps immensely.

“Wait, humans? Like the kids?” Aofil realizes. “Did you attack Frisk as well?”

Sans hawks and lets his eyes wander.

Aofil covers their face with a pair of disappointed hands. “God. Fucking. Dammit!” they scream into them.

They let their hands fall down. “Good thing Toriel helped them.”

Sans doesn’t answer.

“Right?”

Still no answer.

“No. Sans, please,” Aofil feels even more drained than before, “not Toriel as well?”

Sans nods.

“Asgore?”

“was about to.”

“Papyrus?”

Another nod.

“Undyne?”

“well-”

“Yeah, that wasn’t really a surprise,” Aofil agrees. “Alphys?”

“no.”

It’s not much, but Aofil takes it. One that didn’t attack is enough, they can build on that. Aofil sighs in relief. “Good.”

“not directly,” Sans continues.

And there it comes crumbling back down.

“Isn’t there anyone who didn’t want Frisk dead? I know you guys had it in for the kids that fell before, but I thought Frisk was the odd one out. They were just another fallen human that you attacked?”

“yes.”

“And now Frisk is living with the people that tried to kill them?”

Sans thinks for a bit. “yes,” he drags out.

Aofil musters enough strength to stand up, but they do it carefully as to not fold their stomach.

“I don’t know how to feel about this, to be perfectly honest. On the one hand I know that you’re not the people you were down in the Underground, new chapter and all that. You genuinely want to return, and to live with us humans.”

With a tired hand they massage their pounding head. “But on the other hand, six kids and almost Frisk had to die. I can’t believe what I’m saying, but the trial was, is, necessary.” Aofil shakes their head carefully. “Chara was right, Frisk is too damn nice for their own good. Heck, the same can be said for me.”

“i guess they want a family.” Sans picks up the bag of chips again. “or something. i don’t know.”

Aofil sighs. “I guess I’ll add this to the list of things I just have to live with from now on. Knowing that Frisk sleeps in the same house with someone that tried to murder them. Dammit, I’m too sick to be mad at that right now. ”

Sans clears his mouth from chips. “to be fair, frisk told me that toriel only did that to prepare them for the underground.”

“What? She couldn’t follow them? Maybe lead them through it or something?”

Sans throws his hands up, along with the bag of chips. “hey, don’t be mad at me, aof. i’m just the messenger, again.”

Chips rain around Aofil, like leafs on a autumn day, though a bit saltier.

“now that we’ve cleared that up.”

“Not in the slightest,” Aofil shakes their head, “but continue. As I said, I’m too nauseous to be angry right now.”

“i’ll make it up to you later.”

Aofil waves the empty glass. “You can start by fetching me a refill.” It disappears from their hand along with Sans. Aofil keeps their hand in the same shape and the glass is returned a moment later. They take a sip. “Thank you.”

“anytime, aof.”

“Not nearly close to what I expect in return,” Aofil states very firmly.

Sans shrugs. “it’s something. now, about your soul.”

“What about it?”

“it’s red, and it looks like something pap would make.”

Aofil peeks from over the glass. “You’re on thin ice, Sans,” they swallow with frustration and massage their chest, “but you’re not wrong.”

“it’s very clean though. it should be leaking determination all over the place.”

Aofil finishes their water and look down at their chest. With a curiosity they regret having, they clear their throat as thorough as they, can and spit into the glass. It looks, sickly.

“Well ain’t that disgusting.”

Sans throws away the plastic bag in his hand and snatches the glass out of Aofil’s. He swirls it around with a furrowed forehead and with his eyes focused on the liquid. He knocks on the glass, and mumbles something about the viscosity.

“If you drink that I’m gonna kick you right in the chin and then vomit, Sans.”

“vomit? like what you did at the cemetery?” He vanishes for a moment before returning with a wet jacket. “nevermind, forgot about the rain. it has probably washed away by now.” He nods to himself. “probably for the best, no new amalgamate to deal with.”

He whispers something else under his breath that Aofil fails to catch.

They smack their tongue to try and get rid of the taste. It tastes just as sickly as it looks. ”So what, am I just filled with determination or whatever, and it’s just spilling out all inside me from my soul?”

Sans gives the glass another whirl. “looks like it.”

“Is it toxic, should I worry?”

“has it happened before? how did you feel then?” Sans pries with a curiosity Aofil’s never seen him have.

“Mostly exhaustion, like how I feel right now.”

“good,” Sans nods absently. His focus is entirely on the liquid Aofil just spat out. Aofil’s pretty sure he’d touch it he was alone.

“So?”

Sans tears his eyes away from the glass. “hm?”

“You gonna give it back?”

He pockets it. “i’m gonna say no.”

“You know how weird that sounds, right?”

“yup,” he assures, “but as i said, it could help frisk.”

“You plan on giving it to them?”

Sans face turns sour. “of course not. that’s disgusting.”

“If you’re gonna be like that, maybe don’t look at it like you’re planning on mixing it with soda.”

Sans waves the comment away and picks up what remains of the bag of chips. He offers some to Aofil. They firmly decline.

Sans helps himself to some more if that’s the case. “you know, your soul is a good counter to the more scary side of your allergy.”

Aofil dries their mouth with their arm sleeve. “The thoughts?”

“yeah, let’s call them that.” Sans finishes the bag, although to be sure he peeks his head inside to make doubly sure that he hasn't missed any stray ones. “it seems like your soul can’t contain the determination that your allergy is producing. instead it leaks all over you, giving you those cheeks and eyes along with the thoughts, but since it’s leaking your body eventually fills up, so to speak.”

Aofil touches their still hot cheeks. “How do you know all this?”

“i’m just guessing.”

Aofil feels their cheek sting a bit and they give them a final rub. “So, what now?”

“i got some monster science to do,” he looks around, “and you got some cleaning to do.”

“You’re not gonna help me?”

“as i said, i got some research to do,” Sans reminds. ”so, bye.”

The chips are sucked into the air and spread even further as Sans disappears. Aofil sits back down heavily into the sofa. It complains as much as they do. They look at the mess on the floor, and in the kitchen, and just shake their head. No, not now. Too tired. Having their soul exposed twice today is two times too many. Just a nap, and then they’ll get right on it.

They wake as a flash of lightning hits them in the eyes and they sit up with a tired grunt. Urf, they feel just as tired as they felt when they closed their eyes. They lean their face into their hand and breathe out. Just put something in the microwave while they clean and then collapse in bed. They manage to muster a smile. Sounds like a plan.

“HUMAN, YOU’RE AWAKE!”

Papyrus’ voice jolts Aofil wide awake as they’re startled beyond belief.

“GOOD AFTERNAP, AOFIL!”

After some frantic breathing Aofil finds Papyrus sitting in a chair with a magazine. A messy word jumble is exposed showing a wild amount of circles. Aofil can’t deduce a single word.

“W-when did you get here, Pap?”

“AN HOUR OR SO AGO! SANS TOLD ME THAT HE NEEDED THE HOUSE!”

Aofil notices the wet shoes he’s wearing. “Yes, but why here?”

“BECAUSE WE SAID THAT WE WOULD WATCH THE LIGHTNING TOGETHER! IT WAS NICE OF SANS TO PUSH ME OUT OF THE HOUSE SO THAT I COULD REMEMBER!” Papyrus looks down and turns his foot on the carpet, much to Aofil’s dismay. ”PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR FORGETTING, I DIDN’T MEAN TO!”

Aofil notices a familiar smell.

“I ALSO BROUGHT MY SPAGHETTI AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ALSO PROMISED MY BEST BUDDY!”

“Sans needed the house?”

“YES! DON’T WORRY ABOUT MY BEDTIME THOUGH!” Papyrus stands up with a posture summoned from the noblest of intentions. “BECAUSE TONIGHT, I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL KEEP YOU GUARDED FROM NIGHTMARES! LIKE HOW UNDYNE DID!”

Aofil can’t for the life of them figure out how his scarf blows despite there not being any wind in the house. It has to be magic, somehow.

Papyrus notices their confused look. “I CAN SEE THAT YOU’RE STUNNED BY MY HONOR AND DEDICATION TO MY FRIENDS! BUT TRUST ME, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WHEN I SAY THAT IT’S MY DUTY AS A ROYAL GUARD TO PROTECT MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY FROM MAGIC, HUMANS, AND DREAMS ABOUT JERRY JOINING THE ROYAL GUARD!”

“Undyne’s orders?”

Papyrus cheeks blush, luckily it’s from embarrassment. “NOT REALLY, I SORTA FIGURED IT OUT FROM THE SPEECHES SHE GAVE, AND THE THINGS SHE MUMBLED IN HER OFFICE WHILE I WAS OUTSIDE HER WINDOW!”

Aofil decides not to ask further and instead they shift the subject. “So, the spaghetti?”

Papyrus rushes to the boiling pot. “SOON DONE!” he informs after sampling a very stiff noodle.

Another flash of lightning illuminates Papyrus’ face and Aofil can’t help, but feel warmed by the sheer joy present in it. It’s as bright as the flash itself. He skips back gleefully to Aofil and extends his mitten.

“COME, LET’S EAT!”

Despite the confusion Aofil still takes the mitten. “Didn’t you say it had to cook a bit longer?”

“YES,” he blushes again, “BUT-”

“You want to sit outside and see the lightning?”

His head almost pops off Papyrus nods so fast.

Aofil gives in to the innocence in front of them. “Let me just get a jacket. You want one too?”

“MY ARMOR WILL PROTECT ME!”

“Then please, oh great Papyrus, could you give me a serving of your famous spaghetti?”

Papyrus’ squeal of glee almost shattered every piece of glass in the house.


	10. Future of the memories

"HUMAN!"

Aofil jolts awake.

"HUMAN, WHY?"

They burst out the bedroom door with eyes darting for Papyrus. They find him cowering in the chair Undyne used the night before, crying, and fighting against his dream.

Aofil shakes him awake. "Wake up, Papyrus! It’s just a-" they halt for a second. Papyrus eyes burst open and he scrambles in his chair.

“It’s just a dream,” Aofil comforts, even though they know it’s a lie.

Papyrus looks around in panic. "Don't worry, Pap. I'm here!” Aofil leans into his sight. “Look at me!” They manage to catch his attention. “It’s fine. Relax, I’m here.”

Despite Aofil’s calming words they still see that Papyrus is unsure if it’s real. “AOFIL?” he asks.

“Yes, Pap, it’s me. You’re safe.”

He curls up with his arms around his legs, “I’M SORRY, HUMAN!” and his head sinks behind his knees. “I FELL ASLEEP ON MY POST!”

Aofil’s hand finds his sulking shoulder. “I told you I didn't need you to guard me. But forget that. Your dream, what was it?”

Papyrus massages his arm. “FRISK, THEY-” He shakes it away. “NO, IT WAS JUST A NIGHTMARE! FRISK WOULD NEVER HURT US!”

“Of course they wouldn’t,” Aofil reassures with a smile. “It’s Frisk, the human kid that saved you all.”

Papyrus embraces Aofil. “IT FELT SO REAL!”

“It’s fine, Pap,” Aofil comforts again. “Do you want to go home to Sans?”

Papyrus shakes his head on Aofil’s shoulder. “NO, I SWORE TO PROTECT YOU!”

“How about we share my bed?” Aofil suggests. “It’s big enough for both of us. And we can protect each other from the nightmares.”

Papyrus nods.

Aofil pats his back one more time. “Come, Pap. Let’s get some sleep."

After a couple more sniffles he nods again and they both crawl into either side of the bed. Aofil hopes that he doesn’t snore like his brother.

He does.

Aofil folds their pillow over their head. How? It’s not possible! He doesn’t have a throat! Is he using his magic to snore? They push the pillow harder against their skull. Hold on, do it for Papyrus.

The snores echo through the house until early morning.

Aofil awakes as they notice the deafening silence. They look at the clock and to their relief it’s not too early. They try to rub the sleep out of their eyes, but stop as they realize that it’s no use. Now their eyes are tired and irritated, fantastic.

“You awake?” they ask the empty side of the bed.

“Papyrus, you up?” they ask louder.

“YES, I’M COOKING BREAKFAST!”

Aofil samples the air with their nose. To their surprise it smells like, they taste it again just to be sure. Yup, porridge, and not burnt either.

They join Papyrus in the kitchen. “Night went by better?”

“YES, I PROTECTED YOU FROM THE NIGHTMARES!”

His enthusiasm is there, but reserved. Aofil recognizes that feeling. Papyrus is troubled by the nightmare, by the memories. But what did he dream about? Frisk? What did the kid do? Did they kill? Aofil heart sinks. Did Chara kill?

Why though? They sigh, they don’t want to ask, but it seems like they must. Later though, they need to keep appearances up for Papyrus, he needs it.

Aofil smiles. “That you did, oh great Papyrus.” They take in the smell from his cooking. “And now you’re making me breakfast,” they gush. “Truly, you are the coolest of dudes.”

Porridge is flung across the kitchen as Papyrus turns around. Honor and glory is radiating off of him and he points his wooden spoon towards the horizon. “TO RECEIVE SUCH PRAISE FROM MY BESTEST OF FRIENDS IS WHY I TAKE ON THESE RESPONSIBILITIES!”

He poses heroically. “LIKE HOW I DID WITH FRISK!”

Aofil’s color drains as they see Papyrus’ question his own words with a conflicted expression.

“The porridge looks good,” Aofil quivkly points out. “Want to eat in the sun? We had dinner in the rain, so why not breakfast in the sun? I’ll prepare outside while you finish the porridge. Sounds good?”

Papyrus’ smile returns. “WILL DO!”

Aofil lets the patio door slam to mask their sigh of relief. The floor is still a bit wet from yesterday’s storm. Luckily the chest containing the pillows stayed intact. They open it and fill a pair of chairs.

Papyrus joins Aofil with two plates of steaming porridge.

Aofil takes the hot plate and puts it on their knee. “Thank you, Pap.”

Papyrus bounces down in his chair. “NO PROBLEM, AOFIL!”

Aofil takes a bite, it tastes like Papyrus’ spaghetti. Figures.

They don’t hear any clanking coming from Papyrus’ plate. “You not hungry?”

“I AM,” he pokes around a bit more with his spoon, “BUT I DON’T KNOW!”

Aofil takes another bite while they figure out what to say next. “Hey, remember yesterday?”

Papyrus nods weakly.

“How that one lightning crashed on Ebott?”

He nods again with a bit more enthusiasm.

“And the sound it made? It almost knocked us out of our chairs!”

Papyrus snickers. “I WASN’T AFRAID!”

Aofil looks at the very wet spaghetti strands on the floor next to Papyrus’ chair. “You? Afraid? Never,” they indulge him.

“Or when the sky looked like waves?”

“WHAT DID YOU CALL THEM?”

Aofil points to a white and fluffy one. “Clouds.”

“THE SURFACE HAS MUCH COOLER WEATHER THAN THE UNDERGROUND!”

“I know,” Aofil leans closer. “And you haven’t seen some of the coolest ones.”

Papyrus’ eyes opens wide. “COOLER THAN LIGHTNING?”

“Yeah! Although I don’t think that there are dances to summon them.”

Papyrus scratches his forehead through his mitten. “DANCES?”

Aofil halts another bite. “You know, the rain dance you did yesterday?”

“I DIDN’T! I WAS BUSY THE ENTIRE DAY!”

Aofil’s stifles a curse. Dammit, not again.

“With what?” they try to save.

He twirls his hand before raising a finger. “HELPING QUEEN TORIEL WITH THE INTERVIEWS! THERE WERE SO MANY APPLICATIONS THAT SHE NEEDED ALL OF OUR HELP SORTING THROUGH THEM ALL!”

“Application for what? Wait,” Aofil’s throat tightens up, “for the teacher job?”

“YES!”

And Aofil still hasn’t managed to get their credentials going. Shit.

“WAIT! TORIEL TOLD ME TO GET YOU THERE EARLY IN THE MORNING FOR YOUR INTERVIEW!” He grabs Aofil’s arm. “LET’S GO, HUMAN!”

Aofil resists Papyrus’ tug, but it’s to no avail. They’re dragged through the house and the front door.

Papyrus stops at the steps outside the front door and looks around perplexed. He scratches his head. “WHERE’S THE CAR?”

Aofil slips out of Papyrus’ hand. “Did you bring it? In the rain?”

“NO, I DROVE IT HERE THIS MORNING!”

“How? You slept here tonight.”

Papyrus’ smile fades and he turns around to Aofil. “I DID? YES, I DID! BUT-”

Aofil hates themselves for reminding Papyrus about the nightmare, but they have to, they don’t want him to get stuck in his memories. “It was probably from your nightmare. Let me get some better clothes and we’ll walk there." They pat Papyrus on the back. “Sounds good?”

Papyrus folds his arms. “I WANTED YOU TO SEE THE CAR!”

Aofil agrees wholeheartedly, it is a thing of beauty, but mental health comes before cool looking cars.

They change clothes and pull out a large hoodie their dad used to wear. Some sweatpants as well.

“Got some clothes for you as well, Pap,” Aofil informs as they walk down the stairs.

Papyrus accepts them. “THANK YOU! BUT WHY?”

“Um, you know, so that you and Sans have similar clothes.”

Not that Aofil doesn’t want to be seen walking with a monster at this time with all the newspaper stuff going on. No, never.

To both their surprises Papyrus fits rather comfortably into the clothes. He catches himself in the mirror. “LOOK, AOFIL! I’M JUST LIKE SANS!”

Aofil brushes off some dust from his orange sweater. “I hope not. One Sans is enough. Besides, if you’re also him we wouldn’t have a Papyrus.”

Papyrus takes lead outside the door. “WHAT IF WE SWITCHED?”

Aofil locks the door. “What do you mean?”

“WELL, WHAT IF I WAS LIKE SANS, AND SANS WAS LIKE ME?”

Aofil flips Papyrus’ hood up. “That would be,” they smirk, “very silly, I must say. You and Sans just,” they cross two fingers, “switching personalities?”

Aofil laughs. “With you just slumping back like he does?” They mimic Sans laid back posture. “You’d fall over in a second!”

Papyrus shoulders sink a bit.

“Don’t be sad, Papyrus. I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” Aofil snickers again, “but imagining you like this tall and lazy guy, when I’ve come to know you as you are, it makes me laugh. It's because I love you though.”

Aofil also imagines Sans with Papyrus personality, and it makes them laugh even more. They won’t say it to Papyrus. The temptation is overwhelming, though.

“Cheer up, Pap. You and your brother are perfect just the way you are.”

“YOU REALLY THINK SO?”

Aofil spots Papyrus’ cheeks blossom under his orange hoodie. “Sure I do, skelebro,” they reassure with a pat on his shoulder.

The parking lot outside the Town Hall is a lot more crowded than Aofil is used to. It’s full. Why?

“So many cars,” Aofil comments out loud. “Are they all here for the interview?”

Papyrus scratches his chin. “PERHAPS THEY ARE HERE FOR THE PRESS CONFERENCE?”

Aofil notices some photographers tapping their feet outside the door. One rattles the handle with no effect.

Aofil motions for a lonely tree so that they can talk to Papyrus in private. “Who’s holding it?”

“QUEEN TORIEL! SHE’S GONNA TALK ABOUT HER SCHOOL AND THE NEW TEACHER SHE’S HIRING!”

Why though? She didn’t do it before. Strange.

Aofil inspects the building. The front door is completely blocked by people at the moment. “You think we can get inside?”

Papyrus points to the backside of the building. “FOLLOW ME!”

They round the house and Papyrus climbs through an open window. It isn't really what Aofil expected, to be perfectly honest. Certainly not that, not again. They shake their head before following him inside.

Aofil shuts the window behind them. “OK, Papyrus let’s be-” They turn around. “Oh, hi Toriel.”

Toriel halts her fork in front of her half opened mouth. “Hello, Aofil. Papyrus. Why are you two here?”

Aofil points to the bowing skeleton. “Papyrus told me that you summoned me for an interview.”

She puts the fork down. “For another one? I thought I already hired you.”

“You did?”

Toriel eyes narrow in thought. She opens a notebook next to her and skims it through. “Oh, Papyrus?”

He stands up from his deep bow. “YES, MY QUEEN?”

Toriel smile lessens a bit at the word 'queen'. “Now that you are here, could you please help Alphys and the others with the preparations?”

He salutes and leaves for the lobby.

Toriel returns to her notebook. “It says right here,” she reads. “Hire the human.” She puts a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Aofil. I forgot to tell you.”

“It’s fine, Toriel,” Aofil smiles. “I’m here now.”

Toriel shakes her head. “I’m sorry, it’s not you I’m planning on hiring. It’s the human I interviewed yesterday. The one that taught us human science.”

Wait, didn’t Aofil teach them? Why is she?

Oh no.

Her unfazed look confirms Aofil’s suspicions, her memories are jumbled. Their heart sinks, not her as well.

“Don’t be sad, Aofil,” Toriel comforts, “but this is for the future of our children. I need someone I can trust, and I trust my child.”

Her muzzle wrinkles and her eyes can’t seem to focus, like she’s struggling to find the right emotion. “My child, the one that got me these snails.”

She looks down at her plate, “What?” and with a confused hand she grabs her fork. “How can this be?” She picks up a potato. “Where are my snails?”

She throws the fork away from her like it suddenly stung her. “The flavored snails!” She clutches her head with shaking hands. “I can’t remember the flavor.”

The fork bounces on the table and falls down on Aofil’s leg. “Garlic,” they whisper.

Toriel looks up at Aofil and her breathing slows down. Her expression stabilizes and her warm smile returns. “Yes, garlic, that’s what they were. Oh, they were so tasty. Thank you, Aofil, for buying them.” She reaches for her fork, but grabs only air. “Oh my, where did I put my fork?”

Aofil picks it up from the floor. “Here it is,” they say while struggling to keep their voice stabilized. They hand it Toriel.

“Thank you, Aofil. You ready to teach the class soon? Oh, and did you bring the curriculum?”

“Yes,” Aofil lies.

“Oh, human,” Toriel smiles. “I’m so happy you stumbled into our lives.”

Aofil’s knees weaken and they’re forced to take a seat. At least she seems stable at the moment. How long will that moment last, though? Will she relapse every time she sees or thinks about Aofil?

Is she better off without them? Is everyone better off without them? They’ve already killed them all, and now they’re the source of this insanity.

How much do Aofil care for them? Enough to let them go?

Toriel halts her fork, “Human, what’s the matter?” and walks around the table. She puts her arms around the sulking human. She’s concerned and caring, like always. She wants to help, but Aofil will only hurt her. They will just plague her with the memories she haven’t experienced, and torment her with every look they give.

Aofil pushes her away. “I can’t teach for you, Toriel.”

“Why?” she says worryingly. “Are you unwell?”

Aofil can’t answer her, they don’t know how.

Toriel puts a worried hand on Aofil’s cheek. She tilts their head towards her. With motherly eyes she tries to comfort. She dries off their eyes. “Are you stressed out, my child?”

Aofil’s eyes fill up again and they take Toriel’s hand in theirs. They give it back to her, ”Goodbye, Toriel,” and walk away.

Her pleading words hits Aofil like spears. She wants to understand, but it would only hurt her more. Like Flowey’s attacks they pierce Aofil. Their heart and soul bleed with every question.

“Human!” shouts Undyne from the top of a ladder. “When’s your head injury done? I want to spar!”

“Forgive me again for breaking your phone, Aofil,” Asgore apologizes from behind a podium. “I’ll compensate you for it.”

The double door slam behind Aofil and they elbow their way through the sea of humans outside. The journalist from before tries to ask them a question, but Aofil swats the microphone right back at them.

They have to get away...

The sunset warms Aofil as they sit alone on their patio. They’re leaned back so that they can’t see their beautifully cut lawn.

They’ve switched shirts. The other one is hanging next to them with a collar soaked in tears.

The chair next to them is kicked over, and the pillows lie sprawled out on the grass.

The kettle inside their kitchen whistles and they enter to pour themselves a cup of Golden Flower tea.

They savor it. It tastes wonderfully, like always.

They pour it all out and rinse the kettle. They find a cheap human tea and brew that one instead before returning outside.

They pick up the newspaper and flip it open. It lands on page nine.

Aofil scours Mister Lister’s list on how to monster proof your house. Might actually come in handy right now.

The kettle whistles again.

It tastes like warm flavored water. No flavor in particular, just, flavor. Good.

They almost trip on the spot of ketchup left from a couple of hours ago, but they catch themselves on the sink.

They seat themselves again and open the contact section of the newspaper. They find the number for a local real estate agency and dial it.

“Mt. Ebott real estate, where the security is just as sturdy as the mountain,” informs a woman’s voice after a couple of tones. Aofil detects a bit of an uncertainty in her voice.

“Yes, I’d like to open up an ad for my house. Is there a way to do some sort of a trade for a place in another city?”

“Certainly, could I have your name and address please?”

“My name is Aofil-”

The phone is knocked out of their hand. It smashes against the hard patio floor.

Aofil’s sigh competes with the wind created by the shortcut. “Fuck off, Sans.”

“just wanted to high five you, didn’t see the phone,” Sans explains from inside the kitchen. The refrigerator door is closed and he steps out on the patio with a bottle of ketchup in his hand.

He lifts up the fallen chair and pillows and leans back in it. “so-”

“Don’t want to talk about it. You’re better off without me triggering the memories.” Aofil leaves the skeleton as they head inside. “Goodbye, Sans.”

They walk inside and head for the stationary phone. They dial the same number.

“Mt. Ebott real estate, where the security is just as sturdy-”

The call disconnects.

Aofil hangs up the receiver. “Sans.”

“you’ve no proof.”

“Cut the shit, Sans!” Aofil turns around. “What do you want?”

“oh, this and that, you know.” He leans against the kitchen table, “normal stuff,” and chugs some more ketchup, “like not running away from my friends and family that love me and that i love as well.”

“What if I can’t handle the weight?” Aofil lashes out. “Ever thought about that? Maybe you and Frisk are stalwarts of resets, capable of pushing aside all this. But I can’t! The people around me are having psychological breakdowns right in front of me, because of me. They look and talk to me like I’m there, but their words are from before the resets.”

Aofil slides down on the floor. “Toriel called me her child, because she was talking about me from before the reset.” They shake their head. “Like I was a different person, like I was someone else entirely. She was talking about me, but not the me that was sitting next to her. Another me, the one in her memories.”

Sans shrugs. “sucks, doesn’t it?”

Aofil leers at Sans. “Big help as usual.”

“and the nonsense about me and frisk being stalwarts? let me show you.”

Sans shortcuts away for a minute before returning with Frisk.

“see?”

Frisk waves, Aofil returns it.

Sans circles his hand over Frisk’s face. “you see this? this is the face of someone that didn’t get an ounce of sleep this night, and the face of someone afraid of saying a single word because that might cause their family to go insane.”

Aofil composes themselves. “So why haven’t you told me this before?”

“because,” Sans sighs deeply, ”we didn’t know how to solve this. so, frisk had to reset.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there,” Aofil reminds him, "It isn’t something one forgets."

Frisk leaves and puts their hands over their ears.

“What?” Aofil asks. “What did I say?”

“it wasn’t anything you said, aof,” Sans tries as well to compose himself, “you were only there for the last.”

Aofil’s head jerks towards Frisk, and then back at Sans. “They’ve reset more?”

They realize the volume of their voice as they hear Frisk’s sniffles.

“Frisk,” Aofil pleads. “Frisk, how many times?”

No answer.

Aofil scrambles on their feet. “Frisk! How many times?” they cry out.

Sans steps in between. “aof, i’ve already chastised them.”

Aofil feels lightheaded. “Then, how many times? Why can’t I remember anything from those?”

Sans motions for a chair. “sit down.”

“Why?”

“could you just believe me? sit down.”

Aofil nods and takes a seat.

“now, from what frisk has told me, and from what i’ve managed to figure out is that you weren’t a major part of the previous ones. they don’t want to say how many, and i don’t want to know. so don’t ask.”

Aofil would’ve fallen if they hadn’t been sitting down. “I wasn’t?”

“no, and from what i understand the one before was the first time they met you. they did things differently before.”

Aofil looks at the crying child in their living room pressing their hands against their ear as hard as they can. Aofil feels their strength surge out of them just looking at them. They’re so small, and this weight is so big. How do that child cope?

“also,” Sans continues, “because you were such a huge change in our lives it suppressed the memories since they weren’t applicable any longer. you gave peace to us all, and frisk.”

“Just by being something entirely new?”

“exactly.”

Sans take a big breath. “now, do you know why asgore is building the surface lab?”

“He wants to mix human science and monster magic?”

“that’s not the whole story. you see, he wants to get his son back. actually, it might be better if you knew the whole story.”

He walks over to Frisk and removes their hands. “hi, kiddo. listen, you have to tell aofil about everything,” he lifts their chin carefully, “and i mean everything. even the things about me.”

Aofil can tell that Frisk is avoiding Sans’ eyes.

“if we’re gonna do this, we need them to know what happened down in the underground. no need to tell us about the other resets, they don’t matter anymore.” Sans ruffles Frisk's hair, “i’ll let you have your human talk in private,” and nods towards the sofa. “i’m gonna take a nap. wake me up when you’re done.”

A second later Sans is fast asleep on the sofa. Frisk walks slowly back to Aofil and climbs up on the chair opposite of Aofil.

“Is it a long story?” Aofil asks.

Frisk nods.

“Tea?”

Frisk nods again without meeting Aofil’s eyes.

Aofil understands, and they enter the kitchen.

They pour out the cold tea and fill the kettle again. They pick up the human tea and bounce it in their hand before tossing it away.

They serve two cups of steaming Golden Flower tea to the table. Frisk drinks like they’ve been parched for months.

Eventually they put down a half empty cup.

Frisk takes a breath.


	11. Tapes in motion

The last of Frisk’s story hangs in the air.

Aofil walks around the table and kneels down next to the kid who’s story ended where theirs began. "Frisk?"

The child nods.

Aofil reaches out for them. "Come."

Frisk embraces Aofil and buries their face into Aofil's shirt.

Aofil lets Frisk stain their shirt as much as they want. "Get it all out, Frisk," they pat the poor kid’s head, "though I'm not sure you'll ever be able to."

Aofil can't imagine the amount of sorrow behind Frisk's wails. So much pain, so much fear. But behind the fear is relief, so much relief. They have finally told their tale to someone after keeping it locked up for, how long? Months, years of resets? Aofil won’t burden Frisk with the question, they’ve been through enough to last more than that by far.

Aofil strokes Frisk’s hair gently. "Feels good to finally have it out in the open?"

Despite all the strength escaping Frisk they still manage to muster the tiniest of nods. Aofil puts their chin on Frisk head, like how Toriel did with them.

There’s one question though that Aofil must ask. It pains them so hard to do it, they still don’t want to burden the kid.

"Frisk? At the start of your story."

Frisk hands tenses and their grip hardens on Aofil's wrinkled and soaked shirt.

"The first time you met them."

Frisk stumbles on their sobs. They can’t form an apology or plead, and tears flow like the mightiest of rivers.

“I know you were scared, Frisk. They did all attack you, and it’s gonna be hard for me to look past that despite everything I know about them. All alone in the Underground, and everyone wanting you dead. My heart bleeds for you, kid.”

Frisk curls up, trying to make themselves as small as possible.

“How you told it though. To me it sounded like you weren’t scared at all, not after,” Aofil breathes out, “not after you killed Toriel.”

A pained sulk is forced out of Frisk.

“And you say it was Chara’s fault? They egged you on?”

Another weak nod.

Aofil doesn’t want to believe it, that their twin is the source of the genocide. Maybe Chara couldn’t control it? Maybe they were just as afraid as Frisk? Maybe they didn’t know?

They look at their own hands, hands that have held dust, hands that have killed as well. They know the feeling as well, the surge of determination. But it’s because of their, and Chara’s, curse.

Aofil needs to learn how to control it, it has taken too many lives. If Chara couldn’t figure it out, then how can they?

Chara shared it with Frisk, their taste for dust. Did they do it willingly? And why would they tell Frisk to do it? Are they really evil, like Frisk said?

Is Aofil really evil? Is there just a question of time before it consumes them, and their friends?

Frisk looks up at Aofil, at them remembering the feeling of dust, of determination.

“It really is a curse,” Aofil finally says. “But Chara can control it, right?”

Frisk feels their chest and nod.

“Your fear triggered it? And you both lost control?”

Frisk nods again.

Aofil puts their hand over Frisk’s. “It must’ve been terrible for you feeling Frisk and you killing your family and friends, Chara. I’m sorry I didn’t realize when we spoke before.”

They know that Chara can’t say anything, but perhaps they can hear. And if there’s the slightest possibility of them knowing that Aofil still remembers them, then Aofil is willing to bet on perhaps.

“I’ll not be near them when I succumb to it. I promise you that.”

Frisk grabs Aofil’s hand and shakes their head.

“I need to move, Frisk. I can’t be near them anymore. I bring back their memories. I also don’t know if my curse is stable, if one day something will cause me to lose control permanently. I can’t imagine the horror you felt when you realized, but I don’t know if I would ever realize if I got to that point. I could just go on forever.” Aofil scoffs, causing a couple of tears to fall on Frisk’s hair. “I’ll be easy to stop though, with my weak and broken soul. I don’t want my last memory of them to be rage and hatred though, and I don’t want their last memory of me to be rage and hatred.”

Frisk hugs Aofil.

Aofil grabs their arms and tries to pull them away. “Frisk.”

But Frisk holds on tight. They refuse!

“Frisk, I can’t stay.”

Sans puts his hand around Frisk and shortcuts them to their own chair. “could you at least fix the memories before you go, aof?”

“Won’t they stop when I leave, right?”

“the worst ones, sure, but there are more things they can be reminded of.”

“Then how?”

Sans pauses for effect. “asriel.”

“What? Toriel and Asgore’s son?”

“and your twin’s brother,” Sans reminds. “also, frisk said that you made a promise that you would come back for him.”

“That was before I saw him melt away and scream at us to get out before he lost control and killed me and Frisk. He was pretty close,” Aofil also reminds.

Sans shrugs with his hands in his pockets. “so we make him whole again, no biggie.”

Aofil squints and waves their hand. “Yeah, sure.” Their face freeze. “Wait, you want to do like what I did? Startle them into sanity?”

“i can’t think of anyone else that could do it, can you? trust me when i say that i’d rather not try this with all of them being this unstable.”

Sans waits a second for Aofil’s face to thaw, but it stays rock solid.

“look, it’s either this, or trying again with my old friend.”

The memory shocks Aofil back. ”Alright, let’s say that it is somehow possible without erecting a new Barrier and killing seven new kids, how do we do it?”

“first, we need to get flowey.”

Aofil is drained of color. They grip the edge of the table. “No.”

“listen.”

Aofil’s eyes don’t blink. “No, I’m not going back to him. I thought you meant using a memory box or something to bring him back!” They feel their whole body ache as the fight comes rushing back. “I. Am. Not. Going. Back!”

Sans nods. “good, because you’re not going back.”

Aofil cocks their head. “But then why did you-”

“chara is going back to try and convince flowey to come with them up to the surface.”

Aofil’s eyes snap to Frisk. “What, we’re bringing them back first? Their soul is bound with Frisk’s, and getting those two untangled would probably be harder. Why would you even consider that?

Sans puts his hand to his chin. “hm, who do we know that share chara’s soul, their hair.”

Aofil sighs deeply. “Sans,” they try to interrupt.

Sans ignores it. “curse, cheeks,” he continues counting on his fingers. “age if they were alive, knowledge of what happened.”

Aofil raises their voice. “Sans!”

He finally stops.

“I get it, you want me to go down there and convince him that I am Chara.” Aofil laughs into their hands. “Ignoring the incredibly bad taste of me impersonating my dead twin,” Aofil takes an unsteady breath, “I’m also gonna face the monster that tried to kill me, and who would’ve succeeded if Asgore hadn’t interrupted in the absolute last second.”

Sans smacks his lips. “yup.”

Aofil shakes their head in their hands. “This plan is getting better and better by the minute,” they snark.

“i’ll be there just in case,” Sans tries to relieve.

Aofil keeps their head lowered. “Sure, Sans. Well, if I die it at least it solves the problem of my determination permanently. Don’t worry about Flowey absorbing my soul,” they let their hands fall heavily on the table, “I’m pretty sure it’s useless to anyone but me.”

Aofil sighs. “Let’s say that I convince him that I am Chara.”

“good, the plan hinges on that.”

“What’s the next step?”

“did you ever hear alphys say something about a machine of some sort?”

“Yeah, I think so. She sounded quite distraught that it was left behind in her house when it burned down.”

“if we’re lucky it’s still there since she wouldn’t have time to move it. i’ll relocate it to your basement and tell alphys that asgore moved it. and vice versa.”

“You seem very comfortable lying about it,” Aofil notices.

Now it’s Sans’ turn to scoff. “i’m one of those silly monsters that don’t want my friends and family to suffer mental trauma,” and shrug, “but hey, that’s just me.”

Aofil nods. “Sorry.”

“now, once you get flowey here.”

“How?” Aofil intercepts.

“use a pot or something. anyway, once he’s here we can extract what’s left of asriel from flowey and discard the rest.”

Aofil isn’t convinced. “And that will bring him back, how?”

Sans lifts up a small box from his pocket. “your guess weren’t that off, to be honest. we’ll let his soul grow from his own memories. frisk’s idea, from an earlier reset.”

Aofil meets Frisk’s eyes. “And this will work?”

“not a clue.” Sans puts the cube back into his pocket. “never tried it before.”

“So we’re doing this on nothing but our hopes and dreams?”

Sans nods to Frisk. “worked for them.”

Aofil sits in silence. Sans pours himself a cup of tea as he waits.

After a long while Aofil opens one hand towards Sans. “But what about the Surface Lab, can’t we wait for it?”

“i don’t think asgore will be stable enough to build it.”

Aofil shakes their head. “That’s not true, Toriel and Asgore’s meeting with the Mayor went really well, and really fast.”

Frisk shakes their head.

“yeah, you only heard what asgore and toriel thought happened. in reality things went a bit,” Sans breathes through his teeth, “worse. they brought up some things that they couldn’t know. they had to make a much bigger offer than last time to get the houses. right, frisk?”

Frisk nods.

Aofil turns to Frisk with a tired expression. “Still not talking to me, Frisk? Even after all this? Your story I can understand you not wanting to say out loud, but isn't this your plan?”

Frisk rolls their thumbs with their head hanging low.

“If we get him back and this all sorts out, will you at least say goodbye to me?”

They shake their head and jump into Aofil’s arms.

Sans lifts them off. “first things first, kiddo. we’ll convince aof to stay once we’ve gotten all heads straight again.”

Aofil runs their hands over their face. “I guess if we're doing it. Step one, Sans?”

Sans puts a hand inside his jacket and pulls out something Aofil hasn’t seen for a very long time. A video tape.

“step one is homework. you have anything that can play this?” Sans asks while waving the tape in his hand. Tiny drops of gooey liquid fly off it and lands on his shirt.

Aofil motions for Sans to hand it over. They inspect it for a while before remembering. “I think I have something like this in the attic.”

Aofil leads the way upstairs with Sans and Frisk behind them. They bring out the chair Papyrus slept on and with it as help they pull down the hatch for the attic.

Dust rains around them and Aofil pulls up their shirt over their mouth.

“Should be a flashlight in one of those drawers, Sans,” they instruct through their shirt. Sans digs around for a while before finding one.

“Does it have batteries?”

Sans flicks it on under his chin. ”yes.” Seeing the light illuminate the inside of his skull makes Aofil a bit uneasy. Sans shuts the flashlight off and hands it to Aofil who climbs up the ladder.

The attic is very dusty, but Aofil’s already covered in it so it’s not a surprise. They do keep their chin down though to prevent them from coughing and making everything worse. Having a flashlight proved to be a bit useless since the afternoon sun casts thick rays of light through a round window at the end of the attic.

Aofil shoves a box labeled ‘toys’ aside and crawl ever deeper. They note to themselves that none of the boxes are labeled ‘Chara’. Must have been hard for their parents to know that they couldn’t leave any clues behind.

A wooden container catches their eye though. It is heavy, and the floorboards under it squeak as they drag it closer to them. As they swipe the dust off the lid they feel that there’s an area where the texture is rougher than the rest. It’s like someone has scrapped something off it. There’s a name written on the rough texture with a felt pen. It’s Aofil’s.

Two loud clacks shakes the chest as Aofil unlocks it. Inside are things that Aofil remembers as theirs, because their parents told them it was theirs. Aofil recognizes none of them though.

A tear rolls down their cheek, leaving a clean streak among dust. This isn’t Aofil’s stuff, it’s Chara’s.

There’s a couple of old dolls, some striped shirts, and a jeweled case. Plastic jewels, but jewels nonetheless. Aofil opens it carefully.

Inside is a hand mirror with its backside facing up. It’s plastic as well, but not jeweled. It’s small, and very light.

Aofil flips it over and sees that their pink cheeks are missing in the reflection. Two spots of lightly colored makeup, like their skin, like Chara’s skin, is smeared on the plastic mirror. Holding it just right, the spots cover Aofil’s cheeks.

Their curse is not in their reflection. Aofil smiles at themselves being normal. The reflection could let Toriel heal it if it got hurt, without worrying that it would attack her. It could be around its friends without making them question reality, and descend into madness.

The reflection would also have a twin sibling next to it, and the sibling would also be normal. They would be together, with their parents, and with the monsters as well.

A tear lands on the mirror and dissolves one of the spots on the mirror revealing their curse.

“No!” Aofil screams out. They try to pat it back, but it’s too thin to stick. Their cheek is visible again, and their curse is back.

They beg the reflection to come back, to show them how things could’ve been. But the mirror has been stained by their curse, just like everything else.

If only the reflection was real. Everything would’ve been right, everything would’ve been good. Aofil’s family and friends would’ve been there, happy, and alive.

They look themselves again in the mirror. Did Chara think so as well? Is that why they put the makeup on? Did they also dream of being normal? Having a real family?

In a sense though, Aofil looks at the mirror again, didn’t they both get one? Chara fell and met the Dreemurrs, and Aofil had their own parents. They both had a family to call their own. A family that loved them.

But Chara is dead, and their human parents as well. Left is Aofil, and the monsters, who are hurting because of their curse.

Aofil dries the other spot off. They can’t live in ‘what ifs’. They need to face it, so that no one else has to die. They owe that to their family, and their twin.

And it starts by disguising themselves as their dead sibling to try and bring back their dead brother.

Aofil stares into the words they just thought. They look weird and out of place, but they have to do it. They have to save Chara’s family by impersonating them, like any respectful twin would do. Aofil sighs.

A cloud of dust swirls up in the air. Aofil tries to fan it away as they close the chest, causing more dust to cloud around them. With one hand over their mouth they crawl over to a corner and accidentally topple a stack of boxes.

More dust.

They fumble their hand around in on and find an old VCR and quickly crawl back to the floor below. They close the hatch quickly so that the dust cloud stays in the attic and hand the VCR to a confused Sans.

Still coughing, they enter the bathroom. Their hairdryer jumps with joy as it sees Aofil.

“Clean me,” Aofil commands in between coughs.

With a whir of its motor the hairdryer dances around them, blowing the dust away into a neat pile in the corner. It ends by blowing the dandruff out of Aofil’s hair. Aofil points to the trash can and the hairdryer sweeps the pile into it with pinpoint accuracy using small puffs of air. Even though Aofil leaves it while shaking their disbelieving they’re still mighty impressed over what it can do.

Sans hands the VCR back to Aofil as they exit the bathroom. “took you a while. heard you yell as well up there. were you atticked by anything?”

“Never a wasted opportunity, Sans.”

He nods. “i have some in storage.”

Aofil motions for a nearby room. “So I’ve noticed.”

An old and small TV stands on top of a drawer. Aofil moves some figurines aside while trying to look at them as little as possible. They put the VCR next to the TV and start tinkering with the cables. After some swears they finally get it set up. As they turn around to ask for the tape they stop.

“You know? This was my little sisters old room. Mine was the one adjacent to this one.”

Aofil points to the wall on the other side. “Knock on it, Sans.”

Sans gives it a couple of taps with his knuckles. “hollow.”

“Yup, she used to knock on it when she was scared at night, and I would knock back to let her know that I was there. Thing is though, the wall serves no other purpose. Since it’s hollow it didn’t work as soundproofing. It was a bit annoying when she would watch her cartoons on repeat.”

Aofil lets the memory sink in a bit before continuing. “Doesn’t carry the house either. It’s just there to split the rooms. My parents never confirmed it, but I think I know why now.”

Aofil moves to the door. “This wall is structural. Yet, there’s a door there.” They bang on the wall above the door. “Hear that? There’s a balk here. It’s been cut off which means that the door wasn’t here when the house was built. It was added later. My door was here when the house was built, the style fits all the others. This one was added later, like the wall separating the room.”

Sans and Frisk share a look. “cool, i think.”

Aofil sighs. “I checked the model of this door as well,” they grab the handle and swing the door back and forth, “it was only available a month after Chara and Asriel attacked.”

“oh.”

Aofil nods. “Yeah, my parents put up that wall and made this door so that I wouldn’t remember me and Chara sharing a room together. I guess they also did it to ease in my sister’s adoption. For both her sake,“ Aofil closes the door gently, “and mine.”

“do you feel like they wanted to replace chara?”

Aofil shakes their head. “No, since I didn't remember Chara being my sibling. My sister was my sibling, I loved her above all else. It’s just that...I don’t know. I can’t really describe it. They’re both mine, except not, and for different reasons.”

Aofil sigh is very unsteady and they rub their forehead as they hear it. “Dammit, I need to stop thinking about it. At least for now. We got homework to do.”

Sans hands Aofil the video tape. “that we do.”

The old VCR complains for a while before it rewinds the tape. Aofil takes a seat next to Frisk and Sans on their sisters’ bed. After a minute or so of spooling the VCR switches mode with a mechanical clack.

The TV is black, there’s no picture. Aofil could’ve sworn that they inserted the cables in the right holes. Yeah, they’re correct. Aofil scratches their head. “Why isn’t it?”

They give it a hard pat and the speaker wakes up. There’s some commotion coming out of it, like someone’s fumbling with the camera.

“Okay, Chara, are you ready? Do your creepy face!”


	12. Window to the past

"We just have to get six. And we'll do it together, right?"

The VCR stops and automatically rewinds. It ejects the tape as it did the four before it and Sans switches it out again.

The tired machine coughs and whirs in pain as it prepares for another one. There’s a bit of gooey liquid seeping out of the flap.

This time the tape starts off with a very blurred picture as the wielder runs with it. Panting can be heard with fluctuating volume.

“Chara, wait!” Asriel shouts as he rounds a corner. His voice echoes through the room he’s running through. “Chara?”

Asriel stops and the camera manages to focus. The room he’s in is large with white pillars holding up the roof. Aofil recognizes the room as one from the Ruins. The pillars are less weathered though, and there are no piles of leafs on the floor like there was when they ran through it.

The camera looks around. When it stops a white ear flops briefly into frame. “Chara, where are you?”

Asriel sneaks up to a pillar and thrusts himself around. “Got you!”

But no one was there.

He sneaks up to another one. “Aha!”

But no one was there.

Not behind the third one, nor the fourth one.

A quiet snivel escapes the TV. “C-Chara? Where are you, Chara?”

But no one came.

The camera spins towards an exit leading to a ledge overlooking a river. Judging by the faint yet still roaring sound the river must be very far below the ledge.

Asriel runs through the exit. “Chara!” he shouts with panic in his voice. His quick breathing is interrupted by his sobs.

He stops at the ledge and the camera sways around as he searches for his sibling. “Please, Chara, where are you?”

Some pebbles are disturbed behind him and as he turns around the camera locks in on his sibling’s face.

Their crooked smile wrinkles their pink cheeks and exposes two rows of white and hungry teeth. Dark shadows hang over their eyes, almost as if Chara’s eyes are hollow. Their fringe covers their face like an intimidating veil, obscuring it, and further darkening Chara’s face.

The camera is tossed in the air and a high-pitched bleat can be heard through the rushing wind as the camera spins around.

After a few seconds in the air the camera lands in a pair of hands.

“Is it still working?”

The camera is flipped around and Chara’s face comes into view again. Every ounce of scary is gone from it as they check the camera. Aofil can’t help but see themselves. If it wasn’t for the purple archway behind Chara they could’ve sworn that it was them looking into the camera.

Chara examines the camera with their eyes. “Yes, it’s still recording.” They turn it around and frame Asriel who fell over as Chara scared him.

“D-did it film your creepy face?” Asriel puts out hand a towards Chara. “Wait! Don’t stop the camera!”

The tape ends and the VCR starts rewinding it.

“First time we hear them speak,” Aofil remarks as Sans stands up to switch the tapes.

“could be the point where they became comfortable with their new family.”

Aofil glances at Frisk for a second and returns their head forward before the child notices.

“Seems like Chara was still ashamed of our curse though.”

Sans inserts a new tape into the exhausted player. “you should keep that in mind, could be useful.”

The machine whirs again as it settles the new tape, and after some more worrying goo, the TV flashes to life again.

“You sure?” Asriel asks as he sets down the camera on a night table. He turns it towards a bed where Chara is sitting and swinging their legs. “What if mom and dad find out?”

Aofil furrows their brow. Where is this going? They turn to Sans. “Have you watched these before?”

Sans shakes his head, also with a furrowed brow. “not really. i just cleaned them so that they could be played.”

“Asriel, I want to show you something,” Chara says carefully as they remove their sweater.

“Yeah, no!” Aofil lunges up on their feet. “I’m turning this off. Sans, give me another tape.”

A red glow fills the room as it completely takes over the picture on the TV. The camera struggles to readjust itself, but when it does Aofil recognizes the source. They put a hand on their chest. “Chara,” they whisper.

In Chara’s hands hovers the same soul that they have. Chara's is whole though, and it shines even redder than Aofil’s.

Asriel looks around nervously. “C-Chara, put it back. Mom and dad might come in and think that we’re battling. They’ll be really mad with us.”

Chara pushes their soul towards Asriel. “Do you think it’s nice?”

Asriel backs up. “What do you mean?”

“My soul!” Chara raises their voice. “Do you hate it? Is it ugly? Does it look cursed to you?”

They hold it up to Asriel’s face and he squints. “Chara, mom will be angry.”

He pushes Chara away and they fall over with a pained grunt and the red glow disappears as they land. Asriel looks at his hand, horrified. “I touched it. Oh no, I touched it!” He dives towards their sibling. “Chara, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

His muzzle wrinkles and he burst out of view of the camera with tears rolling off his face. “Mom! Chara is hurt!”

His footsteps fades as he leaves Chara sobbing and huddled up in pain. There’s some silent commotion before he returns with Toriel.

She kneels in front of Chara. “My child, what happened?”

Asriel struggles to talk as his sniffles interrupt him. “We were playing, and Chara, they tripped, and...”

Toriel puts Chara’s sweater back on them and picks them up with the utmost care and love. “Let’s get you both some pie.” She removes Chara’s fringe from their eyes with a careful stroke of her claw. “Will that cheer you up?”

Chara nods in Toriel’s robe. Aofil wonders if their nod felt the same to Toriel as Chara’s did.

Toriel smiles to her son as she passes him. “You too, Asriel?”

He nods as well and follows her out of the camera’s view.

But the tape doesn’t stop, it keeps going. There’s clanking of silverware for a while before someone nears the camera again.

Chara peeks their head into frame. Their eyes are red and a bit puffy. They clean their nose with their green sweater arm and reaches a finger behind the lens.

The tape stops.

“You have any dates on these tapes?” Aofil asks.

Sans pushes the eject button. “nope, just the numbers on some of them. most are unlabeled.”

“Anything in them that can clue us in? Maybe we can create some sort of timeline?”

Sans pockets the tape and brings out another. “apart from the obvious, and that it took place before chara and asriel attacked the village, no.”

Aofil turns to Frisk. “You got anything?”

Frisk shakes their head.

The next one starts of with Chara telling Asriel not to record again. Then it stops.

Sans halts midway to the bed as he hears the VCR rewind. “hm. weird.”

He ejects the tape and spins it around in his hand. “huh, guess it was just that. oh well.”

“How many do you have in there?” Aofil comments as Sans brings out another tape.

Sans lets the VCR do its thing while he slumps back on the bed. “a couple.”

Aofil throws up a hand. “Yeah, I noticed as much. Any exact number?”

Sans hushes Aofil and points to the TV.

In frame is a metal rod with a handle at the end. Holding it is a big and white hand. Dark and thick armor covers the torso of the figure and strands of golden hair can be seen flowing just out of frame. The area around them is whizzing past very quickly.

“Faster, dad!” yells two child voices.

Asgore turns his head towards his children. “Golly, you sure you can handle it?” he teases lovingly. Aofil has only seen Asgore smile that wide once before, and that was at the Above Lab when Toriel kissed him.

“Go dad, go!” Chara yells again.

Asgore nods and the camera almost falls over as he increases his speed. The wagon rumbles worryingly, and suddenly it flips. The TV shows Asriel’s sweater and the ground roll around before it’s dropped. It glides a bit before stopping. The picture shakes as heavy footsteps closes in.

Asgore’s mantle covers the lens for a second as he runs over the camera. ”Golly! My children, are you hurt?”

Asriel and Chara sit up while clutching their arms. Asriel’s head sinks down and tears start rolling down his cheeks.

Asgore hovers his hand over Asriel’s arm. “Now now, Asriel,” a green glow starts emanating from his large hand, “it’s just a small scrape. No need to tell Tori about this.”

He pats Asriel’s arm and moves over to Chara. “Same to you, Chara. Mom doesn’t need to know, so let’s keep this between us. I’ll get you both some nice cream on the way home.”

Aofil hits pause on the remote. ”Look! Chara tensed up their body as Asgore healed their arm. They’re also hiding their eyes from Asgore.”

Sans leans forward with his hand rubbing his chin. “you’re saying that chara’s hiding their curse?”

Aofil nods. “That’s what I was thinking.”

Sans leans back again. “could also be that they didn’t want to be seen crying. what with the whole big kids don’t cry and stuff?”

Aofil bounces the remote in their hand, “That too, I suppose,” before resuming the video.

Asgore seats his kids into the wagon again. “Now let’s continue. We need to get to Waterfall and pick up Tori’s present before she gets home.”

Asriel scoops up the camera as the wagon passes it.

The VCR coughs loudly. Its servos strains, like something is stopping them from spinning. Sans struggles a bit to get the tape out. He peeks into the flap.

“You think it will hold? Can we ask Alphys to fix it?”

Sans shakes his head. “she doesn’t do goo, not anymore.”

Aofil smiles. “Not good enough anymore?”

Sans clears his non-existent throat. “yeah, let’s go with that.”

He needs to give the next tape a push before it slots into place.

Aofil follows him with their eyes back to the bed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“not to me.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

Sans snaps his finger towards the TV.

The camera is filming through an ajar door into a kid’s room. Asriel taps Chara on their shoulder. He is holding something behind him that’s makes the wielder of the camera giggle. Sounds like it’s Toriel that’s filming.

Asriel hands Chara a halo made of flowers. “Tada! Look, Chara, I made it for you.”

Chara takes it and spins it around in their hands nervously.

Asriel smiles. “Are you still scared of the big party?”

Chara nods. “Yeah.”

Asriel takes the flower from Chara’s hands and places it on their head.

The back of Asgore’s head peeks in front of the lens. “What are you looking at, Tori?”

Toriel hushes Asgore quietly from behind the camera and pushes his head away from the frame with her hand.

“Oh, sorry dear.”

Judging by his hand Aofil guesses that he angles the small screen on the side of the camera to see as well.

Asriel adjusts the crown on their sibling’s head. “See, now you’re already a royal heir! No need to worry about putting on the real one.”

Chara hugs Asriel. “What if they don’t want me? I’m a human, not a monster.”

Asriel hugs Chara back. “I don’t care what you are. You are the best human a brother could ever have.”

“You’ll be there, right? Next to me?”

Asriel nuzzles his cheek around Chara’s neck. “We’ll always be together, Chara.”

Asgore and Toriel both let out a very pleased and proud sigh.

Chara and Asriel drop each other and snap towards the door. “Mom! Dad!”

Toriel fumbles with the camera while her children run towards her screaming about how embarrassing she and Asgore are.

The tape stops.

The bed shakes as Aofil lays down on it. “Chara was an heir to the royal throne?”

“you didn’t know?”

“No, Sans,” Aofil tilts their chin down on their chest, “I didn’t. They were not in my life.”

Sans switches the tape for a new one. “i was just teasing with you.”

“So this is what Frisk meant with Chara being the hope of the Underground,” Aofil turns to Frisk, “right?”

Frisk nods.

“So yeah, I guess I’m royal through family.” Aofil sits up again. “Or how does it work?”

Sans turns to Aofil with a sarcastic smile. He puts his fingers on his chest and bows deeply. “being the aristocrat that i am i’d love to tell you all about the traditions of our monarchs that i definitely know all about.”

Aofil rolls their eyes. “I get it, I get it.”

The next tape starts off black and without sound. Then there’s some ruffling of cloth, but then nothing. Just silence and darkness.

After a couple of minutes Aofil hits fast forward on the remote. Nothing still happens so they increase the speed.

Some quick gibberish escapes the speakers and they rewind a bit.

There’s muffled sobbing. Very muffled. Aofil increases the volume.

“A-are you still hurt?”

It’s Asriel’s voice.

“D-did mom and dad not heal you enough? They’re not mad that you jumped on them, I promise.”

The sobs become sharper, but they’re not Asriel’s.

“M-must have been scary falling down? Good thing I found you, right? You hit your head pretty bad. Is that why you thought they would attack you? That’s why you jumped on them?”

No answer.

“I’m not mad at you either, I know you’re scared.”

There’s a pause.

“Mom and dad were pretty worried that you couldn’t go back. That you can’t go back to your family. Will you miss them?”

Still no answer.

“But hey, maybe we can be just as good? I promise you I’ll try my best to be the bestest friend a human can have. We’ll do everything together! I’ve always wanted a sibling to play with.”

More ruffling of cloth.

“And now I have one! We’re gonna be best friends! I-if you want to, of course. You and me, um, what’s your name? You didn’t tell us.”

There’s a long pause. “Chara.”

“Wow, what a cool name! You and me, Chara! We are gonna be the best siblings in the entire Underground!”

Chara giggles.

Asriel huffs. “Aw, now I can’t sleep. I just want to play instead. I know, maybe tomorrow we can film it on my, oh.”

He gets up from his bed and walks towards the camera. His white fur forces the camera to readjust itself, but he shuts it off before it can finish.

The tape stops.

Aofil sighs. “Asgore and Toriel’s healing triggered Chara’s curse, poor kid. Must have been horrible for Toriel and Asgore as well, having the first fallen human attack them.”

They rub their lobes. “And apparently being quick to trust monsters that attacked you also runs in the family.”

Sans stops. “what?”

“Yeah, remember? I just welcomed you into my house without question.”

Sans thinks for a bit. “this time or the one before the reset?”

“The one before. Undyne chased me down Mt. Ebott.”

Sans fails to hold in a laugh.

“And then she broke into my home. I woke up the next day with you all making breakfast in my kitchen.” Aofil taps their skull. “I did have a concussion though. Could be why.”

“you sure that you didn’t have a memory from even earlier?”

“I, I don’t know. Maybe? I remember thinking that you all looked friendly enough, that I wasn’t afraid of you. Or at least,” Aofil sinks their chin on their hand, “that’s what Chara told me.”

Sans seats himself again on the bed next to Frisk. “for being dead they sure are talkative.”

Aofil cocks their head to Sans with a disgusted look. “Could you not?”

“tv.”

It shows Asgore and Toriel standing in a hallway. In Asgore’s hands there’s a large cake with a candle lit on top. Toriel is holding a very well wrapped present in her hands.

“You two ready?” asks Toriel.

Asgore nods and so does the camera.

“On three then. One, two, three.”

She swings the door open. “Happy birthday!” they all exclaim in unison.

Chara shoots up from their bed and the monsters start singing.

Asriel runs up and hugs their sibling. “Happy birthday, Chara! Did we surprise you?”

“It’s been a year since you fell into our lives,” Asgore explains. He receives an elbow in his side from Toriel. “Um, I mean, it’s been a year since you joined us, and made this family even more wonderful than it already was.”

Toriel shoots him an impressed looked. “Nice save, my king.”

He smiles and bows his head.

The camera turns back towards Chara. They’re crying. Asriel puts the camera on the nightstand. “C-Chara?”

He approaches them with a hand on their shoulder. “Did we scare you?”

Chara grabs Asriel and pull him in towards them. They lean their chin on his shoulder and thick tears drip onto his sweater.

“I’ve never had a real birthday like this,” they cry out. Aofil needs to steady their breath, they didn’t have one either before Chara fell. They bite down on their knuckles to try and hold the tears in themselves.

“Chara?” Asriel asks, “Big kids don’t cry,” before also slumping over their sibling with tears streaking down his own cheeks.

Toriel and Asgore walk into frame and sit down next to them. They lean in for a hug as well. They spare no love and no praise. Just two parents, with their two kids. A real family.

Aofil hears some snivels from Frisk and they invite them to their knee. Frisk leans onto Aofil and can only muster enough courage to only glance at the TV.

The Dreemurrs stay embraced for a long while before Asgore’s face wrinkles. He looks up and his eyes widen. “Golly, the cake!”

He manages to remove the candle just before it touches the cake. He breathes out in relief. The top layer slumps over from the force of his breath.

There’s a long pause. Then Chara starts giggling, then Asriel, then Toriel. Asgore joins as well and he picks up piece from the floor. “I guess this is mine then.”

“Yeah, you blew it off!” Asriel laughs out.

Toriel strokes the hair of her children. “Now, how about we open some presents?”

Asriel nods ecstatically and runs to Toriel’s present and hands it to Chara. “This one first!”

Chara smiles and opens it. They pull out a purple sweater with the delta rune on it. Aofil is reminded that theirs no longer exist, and their entire being sinks. It fits just as good on Chara as Aofil’s did.

Toriel gives Chara a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I made it just for you, my child. It’s a bit thicker than the other ones so that you can travel to Snowdin without freezing.”

She raises an eyebrow towards Asgore. He looks back at her. “What?”

Toriel shakes her head and gives Chara another hug. “I hope you like it.”

Chara nods. “Thank you, mom. You’re the best.”

“Oh I wouldn’t say so myself,” boasts Asgore as he hands Chara another present.

Toriel stands up with her arms crossed and eyes firmly locked. “And this talk about marrying the best woman in your life, Gorey?”

He puts his arm around her, “I married the best woman in my life. But she is not the best,” and gives her a kiss on her mouth. Their kids hulk as they witness it.

Asgore tilts Toriel's head up with his claw. “Because only the best is good enough for my Tori.”

“And that would be you?” she teases as she twirls Asgore’s beard.

“The perfect king for a perfect queen, or are you implying that I made a mistake?”

"Implying is too weak of a word."

“Mom, dad!” Asriel interrupts. “This is supposed to be Chara’s day.”

“Oh, golly, sorry,” they apologize together sheepishly while trying to return their limbs.

Chara laughs at their clumsy parents before returning to their present. They tear the present open. Inside is a gorgeous looking sword.

Asriel and Chara gasp in disbelief. “Wow!”

“Asgore!”

“Don’t worry, Tori. I got one for Asriel as well,” he interrupts Toriel with a claw on her lips. “And they’re not sharpened, and they will be left behind with Gerson as he trains them.”

“What?” the kids yell.

“He’ll take good care of them both, I promise.” Asgore reaches behind his back, “But for now,” and pulls out another sword, “I’ll show you how to use them so that he doesn’t scold me later.”

Asriel grabs it and holds it high in triumph. Chara joins him with theirs.

“I have the best present though!” Asriel stick his tongue out to Asgore. He fakes a shocked gasp. Asriel crawls under his bed, and pulls out a present that he gives to Chara.

They pull out a locket and Frisk grabs their chest with a gasp. Aofil hits pause. “What happened?”

Frisk puts a hand under their blue sweater. They pull out the same locket that's visible on the screen. Aofil blinks. “Is it?”

Frisk nods and puts it back.

Aofil looks Frisk in the eyes for a while before resuming the video.

“And look!” Asriel reaches his hand under his green sweater. “I have one as well.”

Chara puts down their sword and fastens the locket around their neck. They open it up.

Asriel rocks back and forth on his feet with his head lowered. “I couldn’t find any that said ‘Best Siblings Forever’, so I bought a pair saying ‘Best Friends Forever’. Are you mad at me?”

Chara hugs Asriel. “No, never. I’d never be mad at you.”

Frisk tightens their grip on Aofil’s shirt.

Chara picks up their sword and pokes Asriel in the leg. He bleats and Chara runs out the room. ”I challenge you to a duel, Asriel!”

Asriel lips quivers, but he picks up his own sword. “I-I accept your challenge.”

“Outside,” Toriel demands, “and only with either Asgore or Gerson surveying.”

Asgore gives Toriel a peck on her cheek. “Thank you, Tori.”

“Dear.”

Asgore turns around in the doorway. “Dear you, Tori.” He laughs as he leaves.

Toriel rolls her eyes and walks towards the camera. She picks it up. “My child, my most beloved human child, I’m so proud of you. When you watch this back years from now, please always smile at these memories.” She winks with one eye. “That’s an order from mom, so you better obey it.”

The tape stops.

“homework’s done!” Sans gleefully informs and moves to retrieve the last tape. He struggles to get it loose and it finally comes off with a pop.

Aofil sighs deeply. “Tragic.”

Sans pockets the tape. “yup.”

“Frisk?”

They look up.

“If things go south and you have to reset, please don’t show me this again.”

Sans crosses his arms. “you upset that Chara had a family outside yours?”

“No,” Aofil looks at the picture-less TV, “I’m sad that they were happy with it. Toriel, Asgore, and Asriel. Then it just, crumbled.”

Aofil caresses their face with their hands. “All this death, just because they were kids being stupid.” They moan in frustration and it scares Frisk. “They’re just supposed to get a time out or a very stern talking to when they do something kid stupid. Not kill themselves!”

Sans gives Aofil a minute to collect themselves. “you done?”

Aofil nods. “Maybe? Yeah, perhaps. As much as I can be.”

“good, because we gotta hurry up with step two. i’d rather not risk anyone else having another nightmare if i could. it is gonna increase in potency,” he sighs. “trust me, i know.”

“So what is step two?”

Sans grabs Aofil’s arm and flips up his hoodie. “we’re going shopping.”


	13. Make a Chara out of you

"Excuse me? Do you have this one in a larger size?"

The clerk takes the sweater. "Can’t say that I’m sure about that, but I'll check in our inventory."

Aofil smiles. "Thank you."

"Anything you want me to check for your kid?" the clerk nods towards Frisk.

"Nope, just that one."

"I'll be back in a bit then."

Aofil nods in thanks and seat themselves next to Frisk. “If you want something I can get it for you. I’m sure I can give Toriel the receipt later when we, um, say goodbye.”

Frisk looks away. Aofil sighs. ”Frisk.”

They shake their head.

Before Aofil can continue, the clerk returns with the green and yellow striped sweater. “I’m sorry, we don’t stock these in adult sizes. Do you still want it for the kid?”

Aofil offers Frisk their hand, but they don’t take it. They stand up alone and walk out of the store.

“They’re hungry," Aofil excuses. "You know how kids are?”

The clerk nods.

“And I think that them storming out counts as a no.”

The clerks scoffs. “Yeah, I’ve seen that before."

Aofil smiles back at him. “Thanks for your help regardless.”

With a tired frown Aofil exits the store and walks to the nearby bench where Sans and Frisk are sitting. “No luck here either. I think we’ve exhausted every clothing store in this mall at this point.” Aofil scratches their head. “How can it be this difficult to get a striped sweater in adult size?”

Sans shrugs. “you tell me, it’s human stores. so humany do you need to look in?”

Aofil sighs through their lips. “No idea.”

“and just buying kids sized is out of the picture?”

“I’m not walking through the Underground with my midriff exposed, not again. Sweating through Hotland and then freezing in Snowdin. Horrible.”

Sans laughs. “now that’s a memory i wouldn’t mind having.”

“Is your monster clothes magical or something? Can they like, magically fit the one wearing it?”

Sans peeks his eye out from under his hoodie. “wouldn’t that pop your curse into overdrive?”

“Things is,” Aofil leans back, “the clothes I wore before were made by Alphys. They had like, magical spikes, or something. Besides, Chara looked fine wearing the clothes Toriel made for them.”

“hm, then we just need someone that could help us resize them. asking toriel to sew a new one is out of the picture, even if she had her mind in her head.”

“Radentim?” Aofil proposes with a shrug.

Sans’ eyes widen. “i’ve heard that name before. the mtt show?”

“Yeah, I met, him, um, her, whatever, the last time I went to the Underground. They,” Aofil waves their hand over their face, “did some things.”

“could be worth a shot.”

“They said their magic was about reshaping. You think it expands to expanding clothes as well?”

Aofil blinks.

“asking a monster about their magic is a bit of a personal thing. besides, i wouldn’t know.”

Aofil nods, “OK, seems like we’ve solved that problem,” and bounces up on their feet. “I’m gonna go buy that sweater.”

The clerk was just about to hang up the sweater back where it was displayed. “Excuse me, turns out the kid do want the sweater,” Aofil interrupts.

The clerk motions for the register. “What made them change their mind?”

Aofil glances to the bench. “Stuff.”

The clerk hums in acknowledgment and reveals the price.

Aofil exits the store frowning at the receipt. “I hope that I can return it afterwards. Cost me a leg.”

Sans beckons for Aofil to give him the receipt. “What? Why do you want it?”

“just give it to me.” He studies it carefully. “weird, you said that it cost you a leg, but you bought a sweater.”

Aofil yanks it back. “Hilarious.”

“i’d say not to sweat it, but you bought one. it will look striping on you.”

Aofil’s brows lower on the word 'stripe'. They examine the sweater, and sigh.

“Hello again, something wrong with it?” the clerk asks with the same store smile.

Aofil fakes an embarrassed laugh. “Too many stripes. They wanted a sweater with one yellow stripe, not two.”

The clerk laughs. “I see, shouldn’t be a hassle to switch them. Give me a second, I’ll fetch one with one stripe.”

Aofil shakes their head as they near the bench again, this time with the right amount of stripe. ”Shopping done! Let’s go eat. I’m starving.

Sans stands up and extends his arm. “hi, starving.”

Aofil swats it away. “Shut up. Food court should be around here somewhere. Let’s head over.”

Frisk refuses to grab Aofil’s hand and instead walks behind them. Aofil’s neck strains as they constantly check behind them to see if Frisk is there.

They stop in front of a store. “What is it, Frisk?” Aofil asks, relieving their neck by turning their body around.

Frisk enters a small shop and Aofil follows with Sans right next to them. “Frisk?”

It’s a second hand store, with clothes, trinkets, and other miscellaneous items.

“Hm, didn’t know this one existed. Go and see if there’s an adult sized sweater here, Sans. I’ll go after Frisk.”

Sans shrugs and crawls inside a rack of jackets.

Aofil finds Frisk at the trinkets. “You find anything?”

Frisk nods and opens their hands.

“These,” Aofil picks up a locket from Frisk’s hand, “these look like Asriel and Chara’s.”

Frisk nods and brings out their own. From the outside they look exactly the same. A red, and a white heart.

“Good thing you found two.” Aofil tucks Frisk’s locket back inside their sweater. “You keep Chara’s close to you, to them.”

Frisk grabs their chest and nods.

“We can remove the hook and glue it on the other side so that the white heart is upside down. Let’s see what it says inside.” Aofil opens the locket. “Best siblings forever. Dammit.” They close it and rub their forehead. “Maybe he won’t notice? It was a long time ago.”

Frisk hands the pair over. Aofil pats them on the shoulder. “Thanks, Frisk. Anything to help me be more like, um, them.”

A police siren shrieks right behind Aofil and they flinch. They turn around to see Sans laughing. “didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“It’s a siren.”

He shrugs. “semantics. remember when i summoned your soul?”

“When you attacked me, yes,” Aofil corrects.

Sans shrugs again. “semantics.”

Aofil shakes their head. “No.”

“watch this,” he pushes a button on the siren and it lights up red.

Aofil nods. “Yeah, that’s what the police siren does.” Sans pushes the button again and the color shifts to blue. “Oh, now that’s clever, Sans. I gotta admit. Even though I feel angry at you even thinking of that in the first place.”

Aofil knocks on the plastic toy with a finger. “Though, you think Flowey will be fooled? It’s not really the exact colors.”

“seeing his long lost sibling defeating the smiley trashbag will hopefully be enough to distract him from the exact colors.”

Aofil takes the siren in their hand. “Am I just gonna carry it around while I’m in the Underground?”

A nearby customer cocks their head, but Aofil waves the lamp at them. “For a party!”

The customer nods and returns to browsing some old magazines.

“i’ll give it to grillby. we’ll meet in the ruins so that we’re sure that flowey can see us. i’ll call you out for stealing aofil’s body, and then you’ll fight me,” Sans continues with the same volume to his voice. No effort to lowering it whatsoever.

The clerk raises an eyebrow as Aofil piles the things on the countertop. “Sounds like a fun party you're planning.”

Aofil smiles even though they’re annoyed by the eavesdropping. “Yeah, it’s gonna be amazing.”

The clerk accepts the cash. “Monster themed?”

Aofil feels their smile fade. “Yes, and no.”

With a store smile the clerk hands Aofil their purchase in a bag. “Good luck with it.”

Aofil nods and exits the store along with their two companions.

Sans hawks before continuing. “after i’ve turned your soul blue.” He taps on the alarm. “you’ll show me the power of your determination and i’ll, die.”

“No need to do the finger quotes, Sans. No one else is dying.”

“forgive me for making sure that i’m safe around murderous humans chock full of determination.”

Frisk hides behind Aofil’s leg.

“and then you’ll bring the mistake up to your house and down into the basement where we’ll turn him back to asriel.” Sans claps his hands once. “easy as that.”

After a brief silence Aofil scratches their nose. “When you put it like that.”

Sans seats himself at a table and leans back. “glad you agree with me.”

Aofil puts the bags on him and pulls out a chair for Frisk. ”Burger and fries?”

Frisk nods.

Sans raises a finger from underneath his jacket.

“And ketchup with a side order of hotdog for you.”

Sans lowers his finger.

As Aofil walks up to the queue they overhear a conversation from the people in front of them.

“Did you hear about the press conference?”

“That the monsters held? Yeah, from what I heard things went a bit, weird.”

“Really? Weird? I heard it went great,” the man smiles. “Wait, did you read it from the free paper?”

Aofil’s ears forces them to turn themselves towards the conversation.

“Yes.”

“Haha, no wonder. I had a friend that attended it, he was applying for a teacher job there. I asked him why, and he told me that he had a feeling that it would be one of the best schools in the land. Anyway-”

Aofil interrupts with a tap on the man’s shoulder. “Wait, did the press conference really happen? Did they seem confused, like their minds were somewhere else?”

The man scoffs. “Did you also hear that from the free paper? No, my friend told me that the king had a tongue made out of the purest silver. He’d never heard a speech like that before.” The man puts a finger on his lip. “Although now that you mention it, my friend did say that he did sound a bit nervous, but nothing that impacted his speech.”

Aofil nods. “I see.”

So what they feared was true, Toriel and Asgore are better off without them. If Aofil were there they wouldn’t have been able to say a single cohesive sentence. It’s good thing they left. They’ll set things right. They have to.

“Can I take your order?” asks the restaurant worker.

And the next step starts with food. “Yes, hello. I’d like two orders of burger and fries. And a hot dog.”

The food is prepared alarmingly quick. “Ketchup and spices are around the corner,” informs the worker.

Aofil brings another container with them to the condiment stand. They fill it up with ketchup and put the hot dog in while ignoring the perplexed look of those around them.

“From eating at the fanciest restaurant in town to having a burger at the mall,” Aofil realizes with a tired huff as they serve their table. “A bit of a contrast when it comes to me dining with monsters, but I can think of worse things to eat before I,” they pick up a fry and spin it around, “assume the form of my dead twin and convince the one that almost murdered me to follow me.”

It tastes very salty. Too salty. Oh well.

Not much else is said during the meal. Though to be fair, what can be said? Nothing that would increase spirits.

“you should probably cut your hair before you go down there, aof.”

Aofil is interrupted mid bite. “What?” they ask with their mouth muffled by the burger.

Sans dries off his mouth with his already stained sleeve. “so that you don’t have radentim style both your hair and sweater. they might recognize who you’re trying to imitate.”

Aofil takes a sip of soda to wash the food down. “And wear a beanie all the way to the Ruins? Even through Hotland? Should I have a jacket over the sweater as well?”

“we only want flowey to see you as chara. how do you think toriel or asgore will react when they find out that you’re not only impersonating them, but you’re their twin as well!”

Aofil halts another sip. “And you know what will happen when they meet their dead son Asriel?”

Sans laughs. “got me there, aof.”

Aofil sighs in frustration. “Thought so.”

“so what about that haircut?”

“Could I at least finish my meal?” Aofil retorts with some slight frustration.

“sure, enjoy your food while your friends struggle for sanity.”

Aofil takes another bite and chew very slowly. “I’m not there with them, so they’re not really in danger.” They nod towards the food queue. “I overheard some people talking about the speech Asgore held, and it went pretty well.”

Sans leans back. “fair enough then.”

“I’ve already agreed to doing this, Sans. No need to keep spurring.”

“i didn’t know humans could talk and eat at the same time.”

Aofil realizes that the conversation will not go anywhere, so they take another bite instead. It tastes good. Silver lining.

“So,” the barber asks as she flips the thin plastic cover around Aofil’s neck, “what do you want me to do?”

She fastens it tightly around Aofil’s neck. It’s not tight enough to strangle them, but they’re constantly aware that it’s there.

Aofil worms an arm from out of the cover and throw a thumb over their shoulder. “As close at the kid as possible.”

The barber looks back and forth. “You serious?”

Aofil nods. “Yes, long sides and as low of a fringe as you can.”

The barber spins a pair of scissors in her hands. “If you say so. May I ask why?”

“You do manicures as well? For the face? If you could just get my tone a bit darker, like a nice tan.”

The barber leans over. “You absolutely sure you want me to do this? Your cheeks contrast so well with your light tone, it’d be a shame if they were hidden.”

Aofil furrows their brow.

“I’m serious!” the barber laughs. “You’re not as pale as your friend over there,” she whispers, “so they’re not like two stop signs on your face. They’re really nice, I promise. I could make them blend a bit better, but your natural look is very pretty.”

Aofil feels a smile forming. “T-thank you.” They're not really sure how to react to this. It sounds nice to their ears, that's for a certain.

“They’re even better now that you’re blushing. If you want a change that’s fine by me. I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen it before. Tell you what, I’ll do it free of charge since I feel like I just insulted you. And hey, if you don’t like the makeup you can always take it off. Let me fetch some stuff, I’ll be right back.”

“Hey kid!” she yells as she rounds the counter. She picks up a lollipop from a bowl, “Catch!” and throws it towards Frisk. It bounces on the leather sofa and Frisk nods in thanks.

She returns a couple of minutes after with some makeup and bottles. “I’ll do your hair first and then we’ll do your face in. Sorry, poor choice of words.”

Aofil chuckles. “It’s OK.”

As the snipping of the scissors fade into white noise Aofil catches themselves in the mirror. This one is clean, no makeup to hide their cheeks. Pink cheeks. Yup, that’s what they have.

Their smile can’t stay up. They can’t see their cheeks as anything but their curse. Maybe once they move away they can appreciate them more. Like how they thought of them before they knew about the curse.

The barber tilts Aofil’s head up. “All done. Looks good?”

Aofil looks at themselves. Is this how Chara would’ve looked if they were alive? Hopefully so.

Aofil nods. “Yeah, it’s good.”

The barber picks up a container and opens it. “Then let’s get started on your face. Close your eyes.”

Despite the reason for it, it feels good to be taken care of.

A couple of minutes pass. “There, all done. Cheeks hidden and tan painted.”

Aofil agrees. Their skin looks like they’ve just come back from a nice vacation. They thank the barber and pay her. She waves the three goodbye. “Come back anytime.”

Aofil scratches their neck. The clippers the barber used could’ve used a bit of sharpening. “OK, let’s head to the parking lot so that we can shortcut home without being noticed.”

As they round a corner they’re forced to elbow their way through the crowd. Aofil keeps a hand tightly around Frisk’s.

“why not just shortcut from here?” Sans asks as he’s almost hit in the head with a briefcase.

“Because there might be cameras pointed at us,” Aofil explains. “I’d rather not,” the wooden floor in their hallway creeks as they take another step on it, “be spotted doing magic.”

Their sighs adds to the wind from Sans’ shortcut.

Sans takes the siren out of the bag, “i’ll stash this at grillby,” and Frisk’s hand, “and i’ll stash you at toriel. keep her and the others safe, frisk.”

“Shouldn’t we maybe do some practicing before I-” but Sans and Frisk are already gone. God dammit. Maybe the mirror will do?

Aofil walks upstairs and into their bathroom. Their hairdryer is overjoyed. “Could you blow off the loose hair?" Aofil asks of it. "It’s starting to itch.”

The hairdryer jumps up on Aofil’s shoulder and puffs away the hair.

“By the way, you’re not good at acting by any chance?”

The hairdryer doesn’t seem to understand the question. Figures. Aofil catches themselves in the mirror. “Hi, Asriel,” they say. It looks weird. Feels weird. “It’s me, Chara.”

No, not convincing at all. It just sounds wrong. Aofil glances at their hairdryer. Maybe if they got a bit cursed up? Would that help? They grab the hairdryer. It whirs in excitement. Aofil inspects it, there must be a way to open it up. They lift a small hatch. Inside is something glowing, pulsating. Something made of magic.

They scrape it with their finger and the hairdryer convulses. Aofil quickly retracts their finger. “Sorry.”

They close the hatch, they can’t do it. They know it isn’t aware, but it has magic. Aofil needs to be prepared. They can’t screw up convincing Flowey. They need to do it.

“Sorry,” Aofil whispers again as they open the hatch one more time. They flick the magic out of it and it lands in their hand. Like a glowing ball. Aofil throws it against their chest. A surge of aching warmth blossom from their torso.

They look at the limp household appliance in their hand. It lays still. Pathetic. Aofil look at themselves in the mirror. “Hello, Asriel,” they say again. “It’s me,” their lips curl back to reveal their teeth. They lower their head, letting their fringe cover their eyes like a veil, “Chara.”

“It’s been so long. Look at you in that form,” they cover a laugh with their hand. “The Asriel I knew didn’t look like that.” Aofil offers their reflection a welcoming hand. “Let’s show them what real determination looks like.”

The warmth contracts back and is replaced with a sickening wave of awareness. Aofil rushes to the toilet and leans over it. The sound of them throwing up echoes throughout the house. After some violent hulks they rinse their mouth and spit out the last of their gunk into the toilet before flushing.

Well, that didn’t work at all. That’s not the Chara they know. They didn’t act that way when they met them nor in the tapes. Aofil lays down on the tile floor. The dead hairdryer lies next to them. Alphys can fix it, Aofil reminds themselves. It wasn’t alive. It just had magic. Still though... Aofil shakes their focus back. At least now they know that determination won’t help.

They have a bit more luck with the locket though. Turns out it has a hole on the other side so Aofil just flips it over and reattaches the chain. Perfect. It hangs a bit close to their throat, but they cover it with their shirt. A beanie over their hair to hide that as well. Sweater in their backpack along with a water bottle for Hotland. Ah, and some tissues for the air in the CORE.

They catch a glimpse of the figure passing by their hallway mirror. They look nothing like themselves. Aofil nods at it. Good, easier to not be recognized. There’s just one thing they have to do before they do this though. They lock the door and head for the mountain.

The iron gate squeaks as Aofil opens it.


	14. Off to pick a flower

Aofil removes their backpack and lays down next to their family. The sweater inside their bag makes a nice pillow and they close their eyes for a second.

The wind picks up and the aspen shakes above them.

Aofil looks around to make sure it isn't Sans. "Yes, hello again. Two times in one day, can’t remember the last time." They tilt their head towards the graves. "I'll try not to puke on you this time. And throw gravel."

The wind dies down a bit. "Yeah, but at least I got to see my soul. It is,” Aofil taps their chest, “not pretty. Dad, I'm not blaming you for it. I wouldn't be here were it not for you."

The leafs flutter and Aofil rolls their eyes. "Not like that, dad, stop it. You know what I mean, with the healing. Good thing I was out cold," Aofil sits up, "otherwise I would've probably attacked you. Like how-"

Aofil is forced to dry their eyes before tears form lest it clears their makeup. They take a calming breath to steady their voice. “Mom, dad, I found out what happened to Chara when they fell.”

The wind sighs and the aspen leafs tremble furiously. “Yeah. When they fell they met up with a monster called Asriel. Asriel took them home to his parents and Chara was adopted into his family. They were afraid at first, understandable, but it didn’t take long before Chara and Asriel became,” Aofil lifts up their locket from inside their sweater and opens it so that their family can see it, “best siblings forever.”

They nestle it back. “Chara became the hope of the Underground and was later crowned as a royal heir. So I guess we’re royalty as well. Cool, right?”

No answer.

“I don’t know if they forgot their promise to me to find out how to break our curse, or if they just wanted revenge for what you...did.”

The shadows cast by the leafs seem darker all of a sudden. Aofil sees that the sun is setting. “But they poisoned themselves and forced Asriel to take their soul. The two fused together to exit through the Barrier.”

Aofil lies back down. “And you know the rest.”

The leafs sway silently and Aofil follows them with their eyes.

“Oh yeah, I also found their old stuff in the attic. Not really sure why you left it behind if you wanted me to forget about them.”

They look towards the grave for an answer, but there’s only silence. “By the way, I finally figured out why the wall was hollow and why our sister’s door was load bearing, bro. Mom and dad did it to help me forget that me and Chara shared the same room. So your theory about mom and dad’s stash isn’t true, I’m afraid. I wish it was, though.”

A small gust tugs at Aofil’s beanie. “Oh this?” They remove it, “You see, um,” and wring it in their hand, “I’m going back down to meet Flowey, and I’m dressed as Chara. You remember the memories thing? Turns out it’s affecting everyone, and it’s horrible. No one can think straight while I’m around because they remember me from before the reset. So I have to bring back Asriel to shock them back into sanity.”

Aofil sighs deeply. “But even that won’t solve everything, just for the monsters. There are still people that go insane around me. Dad, do you remember the builder that you healed? I watched him break down in front of me. I saw him struggle and question himself to the point of tears, and then some.”

The tree shakes and some leafs fall down gently on the ground beside Aofil. “I shouldn’t even have to do this. Why do I love them? Why did they have to bond with the only one with determination? I should just move, leave all this behind me. But I can’t, they’re my friends. Friends that have killed,” Aofil scratches their nose, “like me. I mean, not exactly like me, but still. I feel like I have to make it up for them somehow even though it hasn’t happened.”

They open their backpack and place a bouquet of flowers on the graves. “So even if I manage to bring someone back from the dead I don’t think I can stay here anymore. I just want to say that I probably won’t be able to visit anytime soon after today. I’ll,” they dry off another tear, “I’ll always love you, no matter where I am.”

Aofil stands up and mounts their backpack. “I’ll bring the Dreemurrs around before I leave so that they can give their thanks for Chara. I feel like that might help them close that chapter for good so that they will perhaps not lie again in the inevitable trial. I’ve still not decided whether or not to tell them that I’m their twin, but hopefully I’ve made a choice when that bridge comes up.”

With trembling arms they embrace the gravestones. “Thanks again for helping me.”

The gravel path is disturbed by a pair of light footsteps. “Twice in one day? I see that you brought flowers as well. They’re very beautiful, I’m sure your family will appreciate them.”

Aofil takes the pastor’s outstretched hand and stands up with it. “Yes, thank you father.”

He motions for a bench under the aspen tree. “Come, sit with me for a moment.” Aofil joins him. “My child, now that you know, do you see why I can’t forgive your parents. They failed to take care of both you and Chara, and because of that Chara was killed, and you were on the brink of death, Aofil. I’ve kept your secret because I hoped that it would fade away with time. Your parents never told you why I resented them, did they?”

“No.”

“Your parents were good folk, and as I said, I mourn them every day,” the pastor turns his head towards the grave, “but when I look at them I only see you and Chara’s lifeless bodies around that monster.”

“Why aren’t you mad at the monster then?”

“Because I couldn’t believe that they would come back. Seeing Chara with it as well, dead. I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want it to be true.”

Aofil locks eyes with the pastor. “Father, with all due respect, fuck you.”

The pastor nods. “That’s only fair. I guess my faith failed me that day, seeing something that was only spoken in legends be true. And now the monsters walking among us. Do they even know what happened to you two? And the other kids that have disappeared?”

Aofil looks away. “I can’t tell you, father. I wish I could, but I don’t dare. Please understand.”

There’s a moment of silence. The wind is still, as well as the tree.

The pastor meets Aofil’s eyes. “Aofil, I’ve been thinking about you befriending the monsters even though you know that they tried to kill you before. I can’t tell whether it’s an act of a well meaning and kind person or someone very foolish.”

Aofil scoffs, “I can’t answer that either, father. I’d like to tell you to go to hell, but truth be told,” and stands up. “I don’t really know myself.”

The iron gate squeaks as Aofil closes it behind them.

The passage to the trail leading up the mountain has yet to recover from Undyne’s trimming and it welcomes Aofil back to travel up it once again. The shadows of the leafs from the crowns above them still dance on the ground like they’ve always done. Aofil wants to slow down to enjoy them for the last time, but they’re in a hurry? Or are they? No, not really.

Aofil relaxes their speed and takes a deep breath of fresh air. Their friends are safe for now, they can afford to calm down before they have to assume the charade. Sans might need time to move whatever machine he was talking about too. Aofil readjusts their backpack.

A while later they swing a pair of tired legs over the cliff edge. The sun has almost set and the long shadows from their town stretch out towards Mt. Ebott. Everything in front of them is bathed in orange, it looks peaceful. Aofil glances over to the monster neighborhood. The remains of Undyne and Alphys’ house lie in a surprisingly neat pile considering what happened.

Hopefully Frisk is keeping appearances and sanity up for the monsters. It’s gonna be a hard hitter no matter what happens down in the Underground. Aofil is a bit excited to return down though, they have to admit. It’s a beautiful place, despite everything, and everyone. They sigh, they’re gonna miss it.

They watch the sun set halfway before deciding that now is a good time as any. They stand up and walk up to the cave. Despite its dark and ominous mouth it breaths a calming warmth. Almost like a sigh.

They put on their beanie again to conceal their hair. The surprise has to be saved for Flowey. He needs to feel its full effect for this plan to even have the slightest chance of succeeding.

“Yeah, it’s me again,” Aofil addresses the entrance to the Underground, their stage for this play that they’re about to act in. They breath in the cave air, air from the Underground, and breath out themselves. “Chara.”

They passes the stone that their twin hit their head on, and the other stone that they also hit their head on. The hole is just as scary as it was when they fell down it. They lay down to try and see if they can spot Flowey. They see the pile of golden flowers that cushioned their fall.

“Asriel!” they shout down the hole. The patch doesn’t move. “Flowey?” Still nothing. Weird, he promised to take care of their grave. Where could he be? Probably off crying somewhere. Chara stands up again and continues down the cave.

A blinding light forces them to cover their face with their arm. They blink a couple of times to adjust their eyes to the white and formless corridor. On the ground in front of them are signs of a battle, a magical battle. A battle between a kid and a god.

Frisk’s footprints move around glowing scars on the ground. Chara runs their hand over the orange and blue slices. They feel the magic resonating from them. It’s powerful. Something stirs inside them and they remove their hand before their curse wakes up. Not now, they have to save it for Flowey.

“Man, you sure were cool, Asriel. Using both our swords to attack Frisk. Which color was mine?” Chara asks into the echoing chamber hoping that he might be eavesdropping. They don’t spot him as they travel down the blinding corridor.

Chara steps out into the throne room. A sprawling bed of golden flowers and climbing ivy welcomes them to the throne that would’ve been theirs. They smile as they see it all. Next to them they spot a pair of covered chairs.

Ripping the cover off exposes two large and ornate chairs clad in purple and with the delta rune sewn into the back. The chairs are very large and Chara can’t muster the strength to lift them to their appropriate place in the middle of the room. They seat themselves in it regardless.

With their hand they pat the pillow on the other throne. “Need you here, Asriel! Can’t rule without you!”

Still no crying flower around, just normal ones. Chara sighs and jumps out of the chair. As they exit the throne room they face a fork in the road.

Their footsteps echo as they walk down the long stair. When they reach the bottom they flick a light switch. They inspect the coffins and the spectrum of souls.

They blow their lips, “Weak,” and give one a kick. Something inside is tossed around. Something heavy.

They ignore the coffin with the red heart as they walk back up.

The colorful hallway on the other side of the fork brings back some unpleasant memories. Sans’ judgment, Chara and Frisk’s change of heart. Horrible. Their eyes fixate on the ceiling above them. All the monsters. Mom and dad embracing Asriel, and Chara in between them all.

“We’ll be together soon enough!” Chara looks around. “Right, Asriel?” they ask the room with their voice raised. Their question bounce around and die off after some time. Still no response. Aofil knows that he’s watching, somewhere. Like he was with Frisk.

Gray, gray as far as the eye can see. The contrast from the golden hallway to the colorless view before them. Chara ignores the elevator and instead walk on the pathway leading home. The skyline, can you call it that if the city is below a mountain, whatever, the skyline, despite its lack of color, still looks pleasing as always.

Chara throws out their arms. “We’ll repaint it all once we get to rule, Asriel!”

Still nothing.

Chara opens the basement door to their home while shaking their head. Can’t he just come out already? They ascend the stairs and enter the kitchen to refill their water bottle. The fridge is empty. Chara huffs. They look inside the cupboard, no knifes.

The door to their old room opens quietly. Chara throws off their backpack and jump into their old bed. “Remember the first night after I fell?” They think they hear something move outside the door. “You told me you wanted to be my best friend.” Chara stands up and sneaks up towards the door. They grab the handle, “And then you cried,” and swing it open, “Like this!”

Empty, no one is there. Chara lowers their head and fetches their backpack. Out of curiosity they open the closet and discover a row of striped shirts. Aofil twists their lips, could’ve just gotten one from here. Too late for that now. Chara shakes the thought away, gotta focus on Flowey at the moment.

At the end of the hallway is a mirror that only reaches to their shoulders. Chara tilts their head down into view and smile. “Still me.”

As they exit they listen for any sounds of movement that’s not theirs. Nothing. Wait, there’s something. Oh, just a Froggit, nevermind. Chara nods towards it as they pass. “Howdy.” It nods back with a meow.

The elevator at the end of the walkway arrives almost instantly and Chara hovers their hand over the buttons. They see one labeled ‘MTT Hotel’ and press that one instead of traveling to the CORE.

The doors open up to a lively lobby full of diverse monsters. They don’t seem to mind Chara though. The smell of grilled meat hits their nose, and their stomach grumbles. Aofil shrugs their shoulders. Why not see how monster burgers taste while they have the chance?

“Howdy,” Chara addresses the monster behind the counter.

“Welcome to MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Glamburger,” Undyne sighs, causing the small hat on her head to almost fall off, “punk.”

“Now now, darling,” Mettaton wags a disciplining finger while readjusting Undyne’s hat with his other extended arm, “you can’t address this valuable customer like that. Try again, without the insult, or else I’ll tell the king how you aren’t trying to improve your cooking.”

Mettaton pinches Undyne’s cheek. “And we wouldn’t want our magnificent king to be mad at his head of security now would we, my sweetie of an employee who’s here to sparkle up this customer’s day?”

Undyne’s hand curls up into a furious fist clenched in anger. A plastered smile fights her burning gaze towards Mettaton.

He taps his fingers on his crossed arms. “Don’t smile at me, Undy deary. I’m flattered that you think so highly off your boss and idol, but you should do it towards the customer. Take the darling’s order now, darling.”

Chara can almost hear the crackling of Undyne’s tendons as she slowly turns her head back towards the counter. “How can I help you,” she struggles with the words, almost as if they hurt her, “o customer?”

Chara masks their voice. “Could I get a-”

Mettaton pushes Undyne away. “Oh my, a human,” he snaps his fingers and points Undyne towards the grills behind him, “and a big one to boot. Marvelous.”

With grinding teeth Undyne mans a cooking station. Chara can’t tell whether or not it’s her or the food that’s sizzling angrily, but judging from her mouth movement they guess it’s Undyne.

Mettaton extends his leg and leans on his elbows on the counter. “Pray tell, darling dearest, you don’t happen to be busy this evening?” He brings up a large stack of papers from underneath the counter. “Just sign here, and here, and I’ll make you a star.”

Becoming a star means that Chara gets to visit Radentim. Perfect. “Do you have a pen?” they ask

“Ah, you drive a hard bargain, human sweetie.” Mettaton turns around and whistles for Undyne. How? “Undy, get me a glamburger and a steak with my face.” Mettaton then takes Chara’s hand and strokes it.

“Could you please not?”

“Human, I’ll give you these gifts of the best of what MTT can offer, and all I ask for is an interview. Five minutes.”

Chara blinks. “I agreed.”

Mettaton releases their hand. “Oh.”

“Your last interview didn’t go so well!” Undyne yells from the kitchen.

“How are we on the food, Undy? Asgore won’t like it if I tell him that you’re slacking, my love.”

Undyne mutters something under her breath as she puts the items down on the counter. Mettaton grabs her arms as she tries to leave. “Let’s say it together.”

Undyne’s eyes could pierce armor, but it just glances off Mettaton. “Thanksy, and have a fabuful day,” she finally submits.

She jerks her hand back to herself and returns to a grill. The sizzling is even louder. Mettaton opens the boxes. He closes them just as fast and turns on his wheel. “Undy, sweetie, darling, honey, are you trying to make me flip my button?”

Undyne tries desperately to hold in her laughter. “No.”

“It’s either flipping button or burgers. Your choice, Undy.”

Undyne’s face explodes into joy. “I had a choice?” She tosses her MTT branded hat on Mettaton’s face. As it slowly glides down his face he sighs and flicks a pen out from a finger. He takes Chara’s hand and signs the papers. Undyne suplexes a freezer in the background.

“I’m terribly sorry for this, human dear. Just go through that door opposite you and tell them that M sent you and that you need to speak with Radentim. I’ll be there,” Mettaton flips the button on his back, “in a moment.”

A gate rolls down with a picture of Mettaton posing saying that he’s terribly sorry, but the store is closed. From inside Chara hears fighting and Undyne’s roaring laughter.

A monster sizes up Chara after three knocks. “Howdy, M told me I should see Radentim,” they inform it.

The monster beckons for Chara to enter and it closes the door behind them. “Radentim is down and to the right. Big R on the door, can’t miss it.”

Just one knock is needed for Radentim to call Chara in. “M sent you?”

Chara nods.

She picks up a pair of scissor. “Why don’t you have a seat so that we can start?”

Chara removes their backpack, “Actually, I was wondering if you could make this a bit bigger?” and shows Radentim the green sweater. “It’s not really my size.”

Radentim takes it and measures it up. “You got that right. Hm, if you’ll give me just a moment.”

He fills up a bathtub with hot water and then dips the sweater. She then asks Chara to remove their shirt while wrapping a sturdy towel around Chara’s waist. They then tread it over Chara’s head and stretches it out with their other arms. “If you could just hold it there for a moment.”

Chara catches in the mirror that the water has removed some of their makeup. They let down their hair a bit to cover it.

Radentim returns with another monster. “Dry them,” he command before hovering his arms over the sweater.

“Ahh! I’m helping!” the monster squeaks as it shoots a fireball towards Chara.

Radentim catches it with a wet towel and proceeds to hover it above the sweater while he whistles a tune Chara should probably know, but can’t at the moment. They still whistle along.

“Thank you, Vulkin. You’re dismissed,” Radentim smiles towards the monster after a minute of so of tinkering with Chara’s sweater.

The small vulcan shaped monster skips away congratulating itself while small lumps of lava landing around it and burning the floor.

“Stretch your arms. Does it fit?” Randetim asks Chara.

It does. It feels almost tailor made. Technically it is, right?

Chara puts a thin jacket over the sweater. “It fits perfectly. Many thanks.”

Radentim bows. “Pleased to hear that. The stage entrance is three doors down to the left.”

Chara goes the other way, their business here is done. The monster at the door looks at Chara perplexed before letting them out.

The monster at the door wishes the human welcome back whenever they please.

Aofil nods. “Yeah, sure.”


	15. Sample size determination

“Oh my god!”

Chara tilts their head towards the sound.

“Bratty, do you see that human?”

They furrow their brow.

“They went inside the door. The backstage door!”

Chara stares at the two heads peeking around the corner.

“You think they can see us, Catty?”

Chara nods. “Yes.”

The two monsters squeal. “Told you it wasn’t like, subtle. Should we ask them?”

“About what, Catty?”

Even though one whispers to the other Chara can read the obvious words on its lips. “The door.”

“Oh! My! God! Yes! Catty! You’re a genius!”

The two monster come up giggling to Chara. “S-so, did you meet him?”

Chara takes a step back away from the big smiles and blatant disregard for personal space. “Who? M? Yeah.”

The monsters follow Chara’s step. “Ex?”

Chara looks around for some sort of diversion. “No, he was in his box form.”

“What was it like backstage?”

Their eyes are unblinking. Chara would rather get out of this sooner rather than later. “Boring. Very boring.”

The two monsters both look at each other with disappointed frowns. “Oh, I thought it would be glamulicious, like him. Oh well,” shrugs Catty. “Wanna buy some stuff, human?”

Chara shakes their head. “No. What?”

“Oh well. Like, see you later and stuff!”

The monsters return back around the corner of the building and Chara needs to collect themselves for a minute before finding a grasp on what just happened. They exhale their confusion and just shake their head again.

The blue bunny waves to Chara with a smile on his face. "Hello, friend. Can I interest you in a nice cream?"

Chara politely declines the offer. "I'm in a bit of a hurry."

“Wait!” commands an armored monster next to the Nice Cream stand. “You’re a human, aren’t you?”

“Yes?”

The monster nudges the one next to him. It’s also wearing armor. “Hey, Two. We’ll get a nice cream later, let’s escort this one to the Lab.”

The other monster turns with an ice lolli in his mouth. “But I already bought one, One”

One sighs. “We’re supposed to be professional.”

“I’m sorry,” Two takes out his nice cream. “I didn’t see them.” He turns towards Chara. “Hey, if we buy you a nice cream will you be quiet about us snacking on guard?”

“I really have to go," Chara again says. "I got someone I have to talk to.”

One walks up to Chara. His intimidating presence and sweaty body is a bit too close for comfort. “We know. Asgore has ordered all humans to be pointed towards the Lab for the tour of the Underground. Please follow us.”

Two shines up. “You sound so cool, One.”

One motions for an elevator in the distance., “After you, human.”

Chara points the other way. “Listen, I really have to-”

“Follow us, yes,” Two finishes as he takes position next to One. “It’s an order directly from the king.”

Chara turns around and walks the other way. “Dad can yell at me later.”

Four hands grab one limb each and Chara is hauled up into the air. “Hey! What are you doing?”

They look around, but they can’t see Flowey anywhere. It was a risky gamble calling Asgore dad, but if they’re lucky the guards didn’t hear them. And if they’re luckier Flowey heard them.

The elevator ride down is very intimate. Not much room left to spare with two heavily armored monsters holding a human between them. Chara rolls their shoulders a bit as they feel them ache, and the monsters apologize before readjusting their grip. "Better?"

"A bit, yeah."

As the doors open Chara starts struggling, gotta keep up appearances. “Let me go!”

“We’re very sorry, human, but we’re under direct orders from the king to get you to the tour with the other humans. Any inconveniences will be compensated for,” Two explains.

Two swipes a keycard and the Lab doors open with a hiss. Chara is placed inside by the two royal guards. One call for Alphys, “Another human is here,” and leave Chara dusting themselves off.

The door closes behind Chara with another hiss that echoes throughout the large room.

“Alphys?” Chara asks and their echo repeats the questions.

No answer. Strange. Or did the guards misremember that there would be a tour? The lack of monsters and or people indicate that so is the case.

Aofil wonders if they can drop the charade for a little bit now that they’re alone. Flowey wouldn’t be here, Frisk said that he hated this place. Come to think of it, they didn’t say why.

The TV on the wall is following their every move. Despite it helping them notice that they’ve lost a bit more makeup on their forehead they still find it creepy. Aofil flicks a bit more of their fringe out from under their beanie. They wonder if Alphys will ever remove all those cameras littered around the Underground. Aofil halts their step, why not use them?

They walk up to the large monitor and scan the console for a way to switch between the cameras. They scroll between the many, many different views. The name of the cameras have numbers with three digits on them. Must’ve taken some time to set it all up, unless Alphys used magic, or something.

A camera shows a rather muscular wolf throwing ice blocks from a conveyor belt into some water in Snowdin. Why the belt isn’t extended all the way to the water escapes Aofil, and they continue browsing.

Monsters doing monster things. Grillby polishing a glass while eyeing two dogs kissing. Temmies being, well, Temmies. But no Flowey. Not even in the Ruins. There’s no camera monitoring Chara’s grave though. Aofil guesses that Toriel might have had something to say about that.

After a while Aofil feels that their head is starting to ache a bit. Watching all this flickering is hurting their eyes.

They drink some water to calm their head. It’s warm to the taste after their travel through Hotland. There’s not much left after they’ve quenched themselves, but they’ll not worry. They’ll just refill at the water cooler at the end of Hotland.

They’re a bit hungry though, and judging by the huge stacks of bowls and noodle cups on the desk next to them there should be some food in the refrigerator. Aofil grabs a cup of instant noodles and look around for a kettle of sorts. They almost stumble over a big bag of dog food. As it rattles they think they hear some muffled panting.

Aofil can’t seem to spot the source. What they do spot is a large hole where the bathroom that they changed clothes in was before. They peek inside and confirm to themselves that the hole has the same dimensions. Strange. If push comes to shove they might have to resort to using the one next to it. There’s a sign of Alphys next to it, but Aofil’s sure that it wouldn’t be a problem using it.

As the escalator takes them upstairs Aofil wonders why they haven’t seen any other toilets in the Underground. They almost forget to jump off in time as the escalator takes a rather jarring perpendicular turn.

A kettle stands on a hotplate on a desk next to a very strange looking machine. There’s a bit of water left and Aofil turns on the plate. The curious machine has two large handles with the labels ‘vanilla’ and ‘pink’ on them. A note in the middle reads, “Select the amount of vanilla and pink and then start the machine.”

Aofil pulls down the vanilla lever a couple of notches and the pink one just once. With the push of the start button the machine mutters and churns until it spits out a bowl of nice cream. Aofil samples it. It tastes a lot of vanilla and a bit of pink, like how Alphys’ perfume smells like. Fair enough.

The kettle whistles a different tune than the one they have at home and Aofil mixes the water with the noodles. The flavor packaging adds just that, flavor. Nothing that can be specified, just flavor. At least the ice cream have a taste they can put words to, even if it is an abstract taste.

They sit down to eat on the office chair close to the desk. There’s some papers strewn across it. Letters, it seems. Having nothing to do while eating Aofil picks one up and skims it through. The letter wonders how the dogs are doing and if they can visit someday. Guess that explains the big bag next to the fridge. Aofil swallows the last bite of ice cream and realize that they have to wash the bowls. But where? There’s no sink upstairs or downstairs. Well, except for the monster toilet, should be one there. Aofil walks on the conveyor belt and then down the escalator.

They run their hand over the door, but there’s no handle to grab onto. Aofil gives the sign a tap with their fist and the door opens. They fail to spot the door’s threshold and they drop their cups. The cups bounces on the wall opposite of them and a light flashes. Aofil quickly jerks their legs up towards them as the door closes. A low humming starts and the entire room shakes. Aofil looks at the console the shattered bowl hit. A button is lit.

‘True Lab’

Aofil just barely regains footing before the elevator stops violently. The doors open halfway before the lights inside the elevator shuts off. A faint red light slowly illuminates a long corridor outside the askew door.

Aofil hits a couple of buttons on the console, but nothing happens. No escape hatch on the roof of the cab either. Aofil mumbles some obscenities as they squeeze themselves through the elevator door. It closes violently behind them, and they shake their head. “Of all the things.”

The red light mixes with the dark green surroundings to create an ominous atmosphere hanging over Aofil as they pick a way and follow it. Industrial fans spin quietly above them, producing a chilling draft, and silent humming.

A screen embedded in the wall has some text blinking. “Data purge in progress. Analog copy preparation successful.”

There’s no controller nearby for the panel, and Aofil can’t help but feel a bit anxious about the wording used. It’s not what they need right now.

The corridor leads to a room hosting a slew of medical and surgical equipment. Chairs, cleaning stations, and storage for tools. As Aofil nears the chairs they see some stains. They audible hum in protest and peek through the door on the other side of the room. Nothing, just a console with a glowing heart. Dead end. They shake their head again. Wrong words! All wrong words!

They choose another corridor and quicken their step. More panels cover the wall. They all blink with the same lime green message, "Data purge in progress. Analog copy preparation successful,” but the blinking isn’t in sync. The message travels with Aofil as they make their way down the hallway. Aofil feels like the messages are guiding them, and they’d rather they didn’t. The hallway reaches another dead end.

“Why?” Aofil questions out loud. “Why this? I just want to get out, please!” They increase their voice. Aofil feels a bit better now that they’ve addressed the situation. They feel like they’ve regained some control over it, even though no one is here to hear it. Hopefully.

Something that looks like a shadow is jerked around the corner at the beginning of the hallway they just walked through. Aofil’s heart jumps, but they quickly realize that it was just a fan casting a ray of light on a potted plant. They curse their mind under their shaking breath, so much for having control.

Aofil tries to summon the elevator again, but it doesn’t respond. They sigh at it. Only one way left to explore. As they set foot inside the room it leads to Aofil definitely heard something move. Something is here with them. Shit.

They crouch behind a bed and bend their head down. They try to control their breathing, but it’s no use. Their heart is pounding incredibly fast, and they look around for anything that they can use to defend themselves with. Just beds, and some potted plants. Dammit.

With unstable legs they sneak towards the opposite side of the room. The sound fades behind them and Aofil carefully surveys the corner just in case before rounding it.

The blinking text of the monitors in the wall fight with the red light from the strips along the floor. It’s straining Aofil’s vision and they struggle to make out what the huge machine in front of them could be. Maybe they can bend something off it to use as a weapon.

“The fuck?” Aofil catches their mouth too late. Their words echo through the room and down the hallway. They know they have to hide, or at least find something to defend themselves with, but they can’t take their eyes off the twisted metal creation suspended in front of them.

Shaped like a bovine skull with thick and vibrating tubes coiling around the hollow eyes it hangs like an offering to some unspoken god. It smells of wet metal and ozone, and one whiff of it makes Aofil cough.

It hums louder than the fans around it, hollow and dark, just like how it looks. Nothing good can come out of it, and Aofil have no intention of touching it. They’re too close enough as it is. The hollow sockets follow Aofil as they make it around it slowly.

Rows of industrial refrigerators are placed in the next room. Numbers are listed on the door, written in a sloppy handwriting. There’s some sickly looking liquid oozing out of one. Aofil hopes it isn’t what they think it is. And if it is, how did it end up here?

“Dammit,” they curse as loud as they dare as they see that this room leads to another dead end. “God dammit!” This means that they have to go back, to the machine. Aofil gulps, and backs towards the thing down here with them.

There’s a spark in one of the empty sockets of the machine and Aofil flinches. The spark fades just as quickly as it emerged. Is it alive? Powered by magic? Please let this next door be the exit.

It’s not, but Aofil spots something even more peculiar than the machine. A TV surrounded on each side by two shelves filled with video tapes. They’re sticky with the same goo from the fridges. Aofil can smell it from the other side of the room. They lick their lips. Yup, it’s the same taste.

Determination.

But how? There’s so much of it! Isn’t Chara and Aofil the only one with it? And what is this place? Why didn’t Frisk say anything about it?

The sound of several footsteps closing fast forces Aofil to throw themselves out of sight. They hold a hand over their mouth as the footsteps slow down. A strange whimpering fills the room. It sounds like it has numerous voices, but all from the same mouth. There’s a spoken voice as well, but Aofil can’t make out who’s it is over the whimpering.

A bark, again with many voices spoken by one mouth, almost deafen Aofil, and the footsteps run back down the corridor. Aofil breathes quietly for a minute before peeking towards the hallway. A trail made out of drops of determination leads back to the room with the beds. Aofil runs silently and sneaks over to the other side of the hallway.

A loud sniff alerts Aofil and they quicken their pace. They run past a wall filled with fans before reaching a solid wall. The same wet steps from before increase in speed and volume, and Aofil turns to face their pursuer.

A large white figure with dark molds of dogs instead of legs jumps them. Aofil braces against it, but the monster’s weight forces them down on their back. The monsters lowers it heads despite Aofil pushing it away with all of their strength. A gaping and oozing hole closes in on their face. Aofil finds a grip beneath the thick layer of sludge and throws it aside.

They take strain against the wall and push off it to get a running start. Another deafening bark disorients them and they loose their footing on the slippery floor. Again they’re jumped and their jacket is gripped by the formless hole in the monster’s face. Aofil slips out of it and rolls away from the monster.

Scrambling on their feet, they again rush for the closest room. They smash every button on the keypad on the wall, but the door remains open. The monster looses its footing as well on the slippery floor, giving Aofil a split second to grab a sheet and a pillow from one of the beds.

The monster again pounces on Aofil, but they dodge it and throw a pillow against it. The monster catches it in its face hole and shakes it empty of stuffing. All the shadows it has instead of legs bend their front down and a large and white tail waves sludge all over the place.

It pushes the pillow back to Aofil with its head and lets out a pleased bark.

Aofil picks it up slowly and the hole follows it. They pretend to throw it and the monster flinches in eagerness. Aofil throws it towards a corner and the monster takes off. It brings it back and drops it on Aofil’s feet. Aofil looks down, and a slimy and cold tongue licks their face. They brush it off with their hand, and clean the sticky saliva off on the nearby bed.

“What are you?” Aofil asks the panting monster. Its ears perk and it takes off into an adjacent room. Aofil follows.

A long table filled with potted flowers causes Aofil to halt in fear. They’re the same as Flowey. Why are they here? Have they been experimented on? Aofil’s eyes widen in realization.

“Amalgamate...” The monster turns its head. “Flowey said he is an amalgamate.” Aofil meets the monster’s gaze. “And so are you.”

Aofil picks up a pot. “Alphys, what the hell are you doing down here?” They rub a petal between their fingers, “Why did you create Flowey?”

The amalgamate barks again and nods to a clogged console. Aofil puts the pot down and walks over to the console.

“Data purge complete. System restart and analog copy ready,” the screen blinks. “Complete puzzle to initiate.”

Aofil sees the solution immediately and swipes away the sludge on the keyboard. The red light fades, and the fans shut off. A second later the ceiling lamps blink to life, and the breeze of the fans return. A nearby machine whirs and a stack of paper is printed. Aofil picks them up.

‘Lab Entries’

“E-Endogeny?” shouts an echoing voice. Aofil recognizes it, but they don’t acknowledge it. Their burning rage keeps building as they continue reading.

“Endogeny! T-there you are! Let’s get you home again.”

The amalgamate runs to the voice, exposing Aofil to it.

“W-who are you?”

Aofil crumbles the papers in their hands and slowly turn around.

Alphys cowers. “Aof-fil? W-why are you h-here? H-how did you?”

“Shut up!” Aofil screams in anger. “Give me your phone!”

“W-why do you?”

“Give it here!” Aofil commands with fury. They’ve had enough of this.

Alphys grips her tail.

“Your phone! Now!”

She’s on the brink of tears, but Aofil spares no sympathy, not after what they just read. She gives Aofil the phone with shaking hand and Aofil snatches it out of her grip. They open it. “Magic identification required.”

“Unlock it.”

She does.

Aofil goes through the contacts and brings up Sans’ number. “hello, alphys,” he answers after a couple of tones. “if you’re calling about the machine then asgore had it moved.”

“Sans!” Aofil interrupts.

There’s a pause. “why are you-”

“Get Frisk and shortcut your way to True Lab.”

“shouldn’t you be-”

“Sans!” Aofil’s anger has Alphys and Endogeny whimpering. “I’m fucking serious right now!”

The phone hangs up, and shortly after a familiar wind surrounds Aofil. They throw the phone to Alphys, who drops it. With determined steps they walk up to Sans and Frisk.

Sans pats his cheek. “you have a spot missing.” Aofil shoves him aside.

They grip Frisk by the collar and lift them up violently. Sans and Alphys gasp, but Aofil doesn’t care. There’s only them and Frisk now. Frisk looks at Aofil with immense fear behind their eyes. Aofil hardens their gaze.

They wring the child closer to them. “You lying little shit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might take a bit longer to complete due to vacation and me requiring a bit of research to really invoke the punch I intend to.


	16. More rose

"aof, let frisk go."

The words fall on deaf ears as Aofil keeps their grip rock hard on Frisk's sweater. Frisk tries to pull away the pale hands, but to no avail. Their face is consumed by fear, but Aofil couldn’t care less.

"Felt good, didn't it?" Aofil finally says. Their words are dark and full of hate. Frisk eyes dart across Aofil's face. "Frisk, I asked you a question!"

Endogeny cowers behind Alphys, but she provides no help. “A-Aof-fil, w-what ar-re you doing?” she stammers out from behind her tail.

“Shut it!” Aofil snarls with such a ferocity that forces Sans to step up.

“aof, put frisk down. let’s talk.”

Aofil cocks their head. “We’re gonna talk alright.”

Sans looks concerning towards Frisk who’s shaking all the way out to their toes. Their lip quivers like an earthquake and they look pleadingly towards Sans. “aof,” Sans tries again.

“Frisk!” Frisk turns their head back in fear towards Aofil. “I know what you did. I know it felt good. Feeling the dust on your hands, your entire body warm and fuzzy. The surge of determination flowing through your every vein. I know that feeling. It’s my curse.”

A gust flows through the room as Aofil takes a violent breath. “And Chara’s. You used them.”

Frisk shakes their head weakly.

“Really? Determination exists in every soul, not just in mine and Chara’s like you said,” Aofil points an accusing finger behind them. “Alphys’ research proved that, which means that you have it too. And having my curse coursing through you as well every time you killed? Must’ve been like a drug to you, right?”

Aofil throws Frisk down on the ground and they grunt in pain with a quiet sob. ”And you leeched that off my twin, you parasite. Dust sticking to your skin, determination flooding inside you.” Aofil waves their hand in front of Frisk’s face. “And the red mist behind your slits.”

Frisk turns their head away. “Frisk.”

They cover their face with their hands. “Frisk!” Aofil screams again.

Aofil turns them around, “Open your eyes!” and grabs their shaking head to hold it still. “Let me see you feeding on their curse!”

They peel off Frisk’s struggling hands from Frisk’s face and lift open their eyelids. A familiar red looks back at Aofil. It’s all the proof that they need.

With a powerful shove Aofil pushes Frisk away. “Are they even alive in there with you? Can they even hear us? You lied and told them that you were killing humans, right? And when Chara found out, did they scream for you to stop with every kill? But you ignored them, didn’t you?”

Frisk caresses their arm that they landed on. Tears fly off their face as they shake their head even harder.

“Chara died! Waking up from that is pretty jarring! I know that feeling as well. Did you try and leech my soul as well back then when I was dead? Wasn’t enough with Chara? The worst part of all is that I’m starting to doubt that it was really them and my family that I met. How do I know that it was real? That it wasn’t you manipulating me so that I could fix all of your problems that you created?“

Aofil catches their breath. “You said that Chara egged you on as well, right? To kill them all? Never once did it cross your mind that perhaps Chara was against you? Or were you just hooked on that sweet curse of ours so that all you heard was ‘kill, kill, kill’? Think, why would Chara, the hope of the Underground, child of the king and queen, heir to the royal throne, want to kill monsters? Their friends and family? They hated humanity, not the monsters.” Aofil squats down and presses their finger on Frisk’s chest. “No, you killed the monsters, Frisk. Killed for fun. Just like Flowey. You and him are just two kids with too much time and curiosity on your hands. You both have powers that you shouldn’t have, and we’re in this awful mess because of it.”

Frisk disappears and a wave of air hits Aofil. “Sans,” they gnarl. They turn around and see that Alphys and Endogeny are gone. Left standing is just Sans and Frisk looking worryingly at Aofil as they walk up with fists clenched in anger.

Sans pushes Frisk behind them. “aof, focus on the task. you’re acting a bit too much like chara right now. i know that it is the point and all, but tone it back in private. save it for when we meet flowey.”

“You’re surely mistaken if you think that I’m about to continue with your plan right now.”

“then forgive me for wanting to do the right thing and save my friends.”

Aofil chuckles. “You of all people want to give me moral advice?”

“i know chara better than you. though that might not be entirely relevant right now since chara tried to kill you! willingly as well,” Sans retorts viciously. “they were the one that proposed to attack the surface. you don’t think that might be proof enough of chara’s intentions?”

“They didn’t attack me on purpose!” Aofil roars back.

“so they just accidentally swiped your soul off with their claws? whoops,” Sans lightens his voice like a child’s, “killed my twin. oh well, that happens.”

“Screw you, Sans. I don’t need a lecture from the monster that could’ve stopped the genocide of his people but instead chose to make a goddamn scene once everyone was already dead and dust. A pompous corridor with a smug and grinning narcoleptic acting the judge despite not lifting a single finger to stop it all. Didn’t even step in to save your own brother!” Aofil takes a step forward. “So don’t you point fingers at me, or Chara.”

Sans’ eye flashes blue. “when i said that i wanted you to impersonate chara i didn’t mean that you would take after their stupidity. you think i didn’t try other things? the only way they stopped is because i finally managed to get them to see that it was chara that was in control, not frisk. i had to let chara grow stronger so that frisk could see what was happening. and it seems i made the right choice since we’re all alive now.”

“Really? Chara taking over Frisk’s body?” Aofil scoffs. “Chara? Dead Chara? My twin with no soul taking over Frisk and controlling their body?”

“see, you admit that they have no soul.”

“You know fully well what I mean!”

Sans waves the comment away. “doesn’t matter. the point is that frisk is hosting a demon inside of them, a fallen angel, if it makes you feel any better. your twin is the bad apple, whether you like it or not. you’re defending someone that wanted humanity dead. can’t you see that?”

“All I see now is two people that lied to me about my twin and my curse. Hell, I’m not even sure if the curse really is a thing now that determination is in every soul and not just in mine and Chara’s! So why should I listen to you?” Aofil throws away their beanie. “Why should I continue helping you? I’ve held my hand out for you from day one and now that I look at it it’s filled with lies and my dead twin. I was fine without your magic turning my world and life upside down, but the line has been crossed a long while ago now. Seeing death. Being dead! All these nightmares and seeing people around me go mental at the slightest glance of me. Nothing good has come out of you leaving the Underground.”

Sans pinches his nose. “how are you even more hollow skulled than i? didn’t toriel give you a job? and remember when flowey attacked you? we all chipped in when you were at the brink of death, and helped you recover.”

“Ha!” Aofil laughs loudly. “If it weren’t for you leaving the Underground I wouldn’t have been in that situation.”

“your friends mean nothing to you? is that what you’re saying?”

“Apparently my friendship doesn’t mean a lick of anything since all you’ve told me is a lie! Asgore, Toriel, Alphys, Undyne, everyone! Didn’t trust me with anything. Lied to me in the trial, attacked me with magic to show how it was my and Chara’s fault.”

Aofil huffs. “Asgore threw me under a goddamn bus just so that he could justify his murder of the six kids. I should’ve called him out on his bullshit. He even appointed Alphys to do experiments on them. No rest for the wicked, not in the Underground it seems! By the way, did Undyne bring some souls in for Alphys to poke around with? The start of their blossoming love paved by the souls of human kids! How can that lizard even live with herself?”

“barely, is the answer.”

“Not barely enough since it didn’t stop her from doing them. She made Flowey as well! Her resume is a lifetime experience in being in over her head.”

With a tired hand Aofil massages their forehead. “And what kind of king lets his people get experimented on? Good thing Toriel was there to help him to cope with his sadness.” They slap their forehead. “Oh wait! No, she was too busy throwing fireballs at kids.”

Aofil sighs angrily. ”Flowey was right about all of you! And you belong with them, Frisk! I should kill you and give Chara their proper rest, but unlike you I feel remorse after I get blood on my hands. Or dust, whatever! I also made a promise, no one else dies. I just hope that Chara hears this and fights to break away from you.”

Frisk crumples down in wails and tears.

Aofil throws a dismissive hand against them. “This entire thing is a mistake. Toriel and Asgore are happy enough without Asriel. Do your plan b instead, or better yet, don’t jeopardize anyone else.”

The fluff from Sans’ pockets fly through the air as he throws his hands up in the air. “it’s not about bringing him back just because, and you know that, aof!” Sans taps his skull. “stop being such an idiot. we agreed to do this!”

Aofil turns on their heel and walks away. “I’m done with your bullshit. You can get your dead crybaby goat back without me. I’m leaving. Good riddance.”

“that’s it? what about papyrus, toriel, undyne, asgore, and alphys? what about all the others? the reason we’re here in the first place?”

“Fuck ‘em.”

Aofil manages just a single step before they feel a force tugging their entire being back. “Try me, Sans. See what happens!”

Aofil is pushed towards the ground. They feel their legs shake from the pressure, but they fight it and slowly stand up. “I’m leaving,” they say viciously as they take another step.

A wall of bones is thrown up in front of Aofil. “no, you’re not,” Sans threatens. “we’ve got a job to do.”

Aofil grabs a bone. A sharp pain, like a cramp, shoots up their arm. They grunt, but with a determined tug they rip the bone out and step through the gap. They toss the bone next to Sans. It fades away as it bounces on the ground. Aofil massages their hand. “Don’t follow me.”

Sans lowers his and shortcuts away with Frisk. Aofil nods and turns back around. They feel strength return to their legs and they summon the elevator. Their injured breathing echoes through the empty lab.

The doors open and they step inside. Aofil spots themselves in the reflection of the metallic doors as they close. With their sleeve they dry off the remaining of the make up covering their cheeks. Red, just like Frisk’s eyes.

The metallic vibration of the doors is drowned out by Aofil’s pained scream. They clutch their shaking hand and stare at the dent they made in the door with their fist. Their curse is still staring back at them. Aofil grinds their teeth to try and control the pain. A slow minute later the elevator dings and the dented doors open.

Their focused inhales slows down as they near the door. They open with a hiss.

A bony hand grabs Aofil’s injured wrist. “told you i wouldn’t let you go.”

Aofil lands hard on their wrist as they crash down on the patch of golden flowers. They scream in agony.

“i tried you, human,” Sans nestles his hands down into his pockets. “i’m waiting to see what happens.”

“You’ve no clue how much I’ve been holding back.”

Sans sniffs calmly, almost sarcastically. “and neither have you.”

A large bovine skull emerges up from behind Sans very similar to the machine in the True Lab, except instead of meta,l it’s made of bone. “or at least, not with those eyes.” Sans nods towards Aofil, and the skull hovers slowly towards them. Its mouth opens ominously and energy builds up inside its mouth. “well, technically they’re the same,” he points two finger towards the human, “but, you know.”

The human throws themselves aside as the large beam of energy crashes down where they just stood.

The human stares back with fury and determination burning through them. “You smiley trashbag, the hell are you doing?”

Sans waves a dismissive finger. “don’t act like we haven’t done this before, human.”

The skull turns silently and charges up another attack. Aofil scrambles on their legs and dodges the blast in the last second. They’re thrown away by the blast and roll when they land. Confused, they try to get their bearings.

“Sans, I’m not,” the human is interrupted by another magic beam exploding the air above them.

“not aofil, i know.” He snaps his fingers and lifts up the human. “not after you slipped right in there all cozy like during your supposed healing. went a bit quicker than with frisk. can’t really fault you for bringing them back though, but i thought you learned your lesson on body stealing.”

The human grabs their soul in pain. “call it a mistake on my part,” Sans chuckles as he sees the human struggling. “seems that you’re starting to regret it as well. a bit different feeling pain primarily and not filtered through someone else?” He flexes his fingers and the human screams. “so, what happened after you realized that you were in control? stretched your new limbs a bit, took some nice fresh air. jumped for joy now that you could? and then once you landed promised your brother that you would return for him,” Sans throws the human on the golden flowers again. “right, chara?”

The blue glow from the human’s soul reflects on the flowers underneath them. Blue and yellow mixing together to form a emerald green hue that follows the human as they stand up. They wobble as they try and find their balance. “Sans, just let me leave.”

He shakes his head. “don’t think so. you’ll be around my friends, and you kinda wasted your whole trust with me when you infested frisk. you did your homework on your twin though, almost had me fooled.”

The human fights through Sans’ blue magic and charges at him. He shortcuts away, but the human keeps going. They rush the door and throw themselves at it with their shoulder.

A wall of bones is erected right in front of it and the human crashes into it, causing Sans to grunt heavily.

“didn’t do all of your homework though, chara,” Sans berates with a small chuckle while trying to recuperate from the impact. “last time that body was here aofil tried the same thing, didn’t work.”

The human forces their way up on their legs. “Let me go, Sans!”

A circle of bones is summoned around the human and thrown against them. They duck as quickly as they can, but one hits them in the chest and they recoil from the hit.

The human clutches their side and as they open their eyes their glare is lunged at Sans. The gaze is as red as their curse. It is in full effect, but this time they’re gonna use it. No holding back, Sans has gone too far. A piece of wood from the door lies next to them. It’s flimsy, but it’ll have to do. They pick it up. “Last chance.”

Another skull is summoned over Sans’ shoulder as the first one hovers to the other side. “i gave you that a long time ago.”

The stone floor underneath the human cracks with a deafening bang as the two skulls unleash their combined energy towards the plateau. Stone and debris comes crashing down around the human who rolled away to escape the blast.

They close the distance and swing against a skull. The swing misses, and they stumble before regaining their footing.

“heh, not used to having your eyes this far up? not surprising since you never did have the moral high ground.”

The human deflects a bone homing against them. It dissipates just behind them. “Again with the moral talk, Sans,” the human spits out, along with some blood and determination. “You slow to realize your hypocrisy?”

“wow, now that you’re saying it. looks like i’m acclimating really fast to returning to the surface,” he raises the skulls and circles them over the human, “cause i guess i might be human after all.”

The human takes cover behind an ornate pillar and the magic roars around them as the skulls fire again. As soon as the blasts stop the human takes strain against the pillar with their leg and push off. The stick breaks as one skull is struck hard. It wobbles in the air and smashes into the other skull. Both of them crash in a pile behind the human.

The skulls shake off the attack and float up into the air again. The sound of their magic building up turns the head of the human who searches desperately for something to take cover behind.

A thick stalk whistles past the human and hits the skull so it tilts up. The blast travels for a second before hitting the roof of the cavern. A low rumbling shakes the cavern as large rocks fall from the ceiling. One crashes right next to the human and they jump back. The skulls follow, but one is hit by a rock. Dazed by it, the skull slams into the ground.

Sans howls in pain and falls down on one knee. He grabs his chest and coughs. The human notices his face go darker by the second.

“Sans!” the human exclaims as they rush towards him.

“Look out!”

The human looks up and a snare catches their leg. A large boulder comes crashing down right before them and they smash their head into it.

“Chara! I’m so sorry Chara, I didn’t mean it.”

The human blinks.

“I-I’ll heal you right up. You just need to stand up.”

Blood runs over the human’s eyes.

“Chara! Please, don’t leave me again!”

Their vision darkens as vines wrap around them.


	17. HOME again

A door is slowly opened.

"Hello, Chara. You awake? I made us some tea."

The porcelain cup is put down next to the bed. The smell is bland.

"Chara, don't do this again," an uneasy chuckle tries, but fails to hide the worry in the voice. "It didn't go so well the last time, remember? And now the monsters are free since I broke the barrier, so there’s no need for you to die again. I helped, like I said I would. I’m a big kid now, I saved the monsters, and set us all free. But then I cried again, like I always do."

No answer.

"And big kids don’t cry. Right, Chara? Big kids save the Underground and are loved by all. I just need to love them back, that’s all. Maybe with your help I can again, because right now I can’t face them again. I’m Flowey, and for Flowey it is kill or be killed. Only Asriel gets the hugs. He’s the one people should remember, not me. But you’re here now, so things might turn out for the better.”

There’s just quiet.,

“Please wake up, Chara. I miss you. I’ve missed you so much. Everyday since I woke up like this stupid flower! Everyday since I became Flowey, the flower. I know why you’re here, but I can’t be Asriel again, not without you. Best friends forever, it’s what we promised. Can’t have one without the other. So wake up!"

The vine is retracted quickly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to touch you there. Let me get you some new bandages, yours are all bloody."

The door is slowly closed.

"Chara? It's me again. Just checking in on you. It’s so nice seeing you again, even though you’re not you. To be fair, I’m not me neither, not anymore, again.”

There’s an awkward cough.

“You can wake up now, you know? No need to be still anymore. Maybe you can..."

A long pause fills the room.

"I was about to say that maybe you could just reset, but I don’t know if I want you to do it, or if you can."

Blood drops hit the floor as they’re shaken off a vine.

“Are you bleeding again? I’ll get some more bandages. You want some tea as well?”

No answer.

“Just bandages then.”

The door is left open.

“So Frisk is all alone now? I wonder how it feels for them, it’s been awhile since they were alone. Speaking of which, how does it feel for you? Or are you doing what you did with Frisk? Will the other soul try to rebel? Can you keep them under control? Like what Frisk did with, um, you.”

No answer.

“If you are alone, do you still have the other’s soul around somewhere? And can I use it?”

The silence is deafening.

“It’s fine, I guess we’ll have get me another one. You’re pale, I’ll fetch you some water.”

With a gentle stem the head is lifted and the water is poured gently into the mouth. The head is tilted back and the water runs down the throat.

“I’ll see if I can get you something to eat as well.”

The table squeaks as it’s pushed over the wooden floor.

“I made you some soup, hope you like it. There’s some pie in the fridge, but I’m gonna save it until you wake up. We’ll eat it together.”

The head is lifted again, and the hot soup is poured just like the water.

“The pie is fresh, I promise.” A guilty chuckle accompanies the sound of the plate being placed back on the table. “I kinda tasted it. She’s still a good cook.”

“My child,” says Toriel’s voice carefully, “wake up. I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe, young one. Please come back to me.”

Her voice fades.

“Sorry, you didn’t need that.”

Silence hangs in the air for a long while.

“I should probably do the dishes. I’ll be back soon, Chara.”

The plate is removed from the table.

"Chara, can you hear me? Who is this, by the way?"

The vine is jerked back again.

"Sorry, didn't mean to touch you there, again. Though maybe I did, just a little bit. You see, I remember seeing your body before, in a previous timeline. I remember something about me fighting them, and almost killing them if it wasn’t for him and his fireball. Just looking at it makes me want to smack them across the face. I won’t do it since I know it’s you now, but who was it before? Now that I think about it, they look a lot like you.”

The water in the bucket turns red as the cloth is cleaned.

“They even have those blushes of yours.”

The red water splashes onto the floor as the heavy rag is dropped in sudden realization.

“Is it your twin? Oh no, I almost killed them! I’m so sorry, Chara, I didn’t know. Had I known that it was your twin I would’ve...”

A deep sigh emerges.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve done differently. Just looking at them I want to punch them. I see a big idiot who didn’t do anything good. Just came to the Underground to die. I see...”

The petals flop violently as they’re shaken in anger.

“No, I wasn’t about to say ‘you’. I promise! I will get over it once you wake up. Once you talk to me I’ll know it’s you. So just do it, for me?”

No answer.

“The floor is wet. I’m gonna get something to clean it up with so that you don’t slip when you wake up. There’s outta be a mop somewhere. I think I saw it resting on the fridge before.”

The sound of a wooden stick bouncing on tiled floor is followed by a pleased shout.

“Found it! Let’s see, how can I do this without looking like an idiot?”

The wet mop splats and slops around with an accompanying whistle.

“You know, it should’ve been obvious for me that it was you when I healed you. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You should’ve said something before I... Oh, yeah, I forgot. Sorry for attacking you and Frisk. I was kinda feeling my love melt away. It’s very scary, gotta say. It’s like everything you feel and are is being ripped out of your grasp. You scream for help, even though you know that it’s in vain. It hurts, everything hurts. No one can help you, not unless they have a spare soul handy.”

The irregular sploshing of the mop stops.

“You cry, and then suddenly you don’t. You don’t know how anymore. You know that you just cried, but the concept isn’t there for you anymore. It’s just nothing, and you can’t feel that there was something there to begin with either. Happiness too, same story. You know that you felt it, and you know that you liked it, whatever that means, and that you want more of it, or at least you think you do. But again, you can’t think of it, no matter how hard you try. There’s not even a desire for it, but there’s a desire for it to be a desire. Though that desire you can’t feel because the void is all you know and feel.”

After a long and silent minute the mop starts moving again.

“So yeah, sorry for attacking you. Speaking of Frisk, they could’ve said something as well. Unless you slipped out without them knowing. Ha! What if they still think you’re inside them? Poor kid, not knowing that they’re free.”

Flowey coughs.

“I mean, free from you showing them the way. Now they’re allowed to be the idiot that they really are.”

His unsteady laughter trails off.

“Pure innocent angel Frisk, so good they literally killed a god with kindness. I’d ask them to say a few words about it, but more often than not it’s impossible to get even a single sound out of them. I think I got most of the blood off the floor now. I’ll be back soon.”

The mop handle hits the door frame as it’s brought out of the room.

“Who was it that killed all the monsters, Chara? Was it you, or was it Frisk? I mean, you were the one that sliced up the humans back in your village, even your twin. I thought it would make you stop, but I guess our plan was larger than your twin. They seem to have made a full recover which is lucky for you. Although, aren’t they a g-”

A loud crash stops Flowey mid sentence.

“It was just another rock falling down. Hopefully the ceiling will hold. By the way, it was a very cool battle you had with Sans. Went a bit better than last time.”

Worried laughter fills the room.

“W-when you met me there, before Sans, you didn’t really mean what you said, right? It was clearly you, I could see it in that creepy smile you did. I-I was still useful to you. I would’ve followed you and helped you wherever and with whatever you asked me to, because we’re best friends. You wouldn’t hurt me? Right?”

No answer.

“I helped you with the puzzles, I was always by your side. Nothing I did stopped you from becoming strong! I would never stand in your way, Chara. I would never-”

A scared gasp from Flowey stops him.

“That one doesn’t count! I didn’t do it to hinder you! I was just so glad to finally see you again, that’s all. You just did that as a joke. It just took some time for it to set in. I can laugh at it now, see?”

The laughter is filled with fear despite Flowey’s best attempts at hiding it.

“No, I didn’t mean to. I-I just...”

The door is slammed shut.

“Chara! Wake up! I’ve done so much for you, now it’s your turn to do something for me. Wake up! Talk to me! I’ve done everything for you, I don’t deserve this silence. I helped. Thank me for it!”

No answer.

“It’s not fair, I’ve waited for an eternity, and now that you finally come back you scare me by lying still like you did with the buttercups. Your awful idea is why we’re like this! You bullied me into accepting. Why do you have to do this to me again? It’s not funny anymore, it was never funny!”

The body is shaken with a pair of furious vines and the head rocks back and forth violently.

“Wake up and tell me that you were just joking back there, I’ve earned that much! I did everything you told me to, and now it’s time for you to listen to me! I want you to wake up and say that you’re sorry! I want you to say that you’re sorry for everything! For every second of me having this useless form! For every memory I have of you looking at me with nothing but contempt and kill crazy! I hate you! You’re the reason I’m this pathetic flower! You’re the reason everything happened! You hurt everyone with no remorse or care in the world! I hate you, Chara!”

The body bounces heavily on the bed as it lands.

“Frisk showed me that you don’t have to kill to get what you want. You don’t have to kill to save everyone. So why didn’t you do it, Chara? Why did you want to kill to begin with? Why did you want to kill me? In fact, why don’t I kill you? That way you can get a taste of your own medicine.”

No answer.

“Why isn’t your soul out? Where is it? Talk to me! I deserve an answer!”

No answer.

The door is slammed shut and desperate crying echoes through the house.

The door creaks as it’s opened slowly.

“Chara? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. Well, yes, yes I did. I want to be with you again, even though I shouldn’t. You’re no good for me, but I care about you more than anybody else! I don’t know anymore. Well, I kinda do. Frisk has opened my eyes to what you really are. Chara, you’re not a good person. But neither am I, so maybe we belong together. Maybe we can do us better though now that we have the chance? We can move away, hide in the Underground until we figure out how to save me. We’ll wait until there’s a monster city on the Surface so that you don’t have to be near any humans. Then we can together again, like we promised to be. We’ll never speak of what happened before Frisk and just live happily. Our best ending, together.”

Flowey scoffs.

“What am I saying? We can’t do it alone. Creatures like us, we need help if we are to survive in this new world. Hey, what if we ask Frisk to help us? Do you think they would? Without you in them they’re...”

He sighs.

“In any case you have to be there with me. We can’t do this on our own, we have to be together to do it. You and me Chara, together. So wake up, for both of us.”

No answer.

“Chara, can I ask you one last question? How did it feel for you when you died? I remember everything that happened before. How you laid just as still as you are now. The worry we all felt as you grew weaker and weaker. Your pale face. It’s the same you have now. And your soul, outside your body. There’s no soul outside you now,” Flowey takes a very unstable breath, “because you don’t have one. I’ve done everything I can think of, but I can’t get to your soul, Chara.”

Tears crash on the bloody sweater.

“I couldn’t save you! I promised you again, and I failed you! I’m weak! I’m pathetic! I was so close. We could have fixed us together, but I’m too weak. I’m just Flowey. If I was Asriel, maybe. But not as Flowey, not as me.”

The loud sobs seem to never stop.

“Chara? Can you make me a promise for once? Don’t disappear from me again. I’ll talk with Frisk, ask them to reset. Though I don’t think they can, not without you. Wait, I’ll ask them to help me become Asriel again. If that works then bringing you back will be easy. I’ll go to the Surface, but I’ll come back to take care of you. Sound good?”

No answer.

“Just tell me that it’s a good idea.”

No answer.

“Just tell me that you’re not dead.”

No answer.

“I need you.”

No answer.

“Frisk will help us, I promise. They’re good like that. They won’t turn their back away because you tried to kill them. They want to help everyone, even me. They hugged me. They didn’t even know me and they hugged me. Forgiving the one that always stood in their way. They’re not like you, Chara. They didn’t want to save the monsters because they hate. They saved them because they’re good. Because they broke free from you. And perhaps, for me to be saved, I have to break free from you.”

No answer.

“I care about you, Chara. I care about you more than anybody else in this world.”

No answer.

“But seeing everything that has happened without you, and with you, I think it might be better if you stayed here.”

No answer.

“Goodbye, Chara.”

The door is closed.


	18. Flower on the run

Pained groans is forced out of the human. With great effort they blink away the sticky eyelids until their eyes acclimate to seeing light after a long time of darkness. It takes some time for their eyes to focus, and as they look around with their hazy vision they notice that they’re in a bed that's a bit too small for them. Their knees creek and pop as the human stretches them out. They move a hand to try and brace themselves for standing up, but as soon as they put weight on it screams in refusal. Sharp pain rushes up their arm and they flop back down on the bed. They feel pressure on their side as they fall. They run their other hand against it and feel something warm leak.

Blood. Fresh. Not good.

They brace with their other hand to try and get a better view. Yup, they're bleeding. They grab the loose bandage and pull on it hard. Unsteady breathing echoes around the room as the human tries to control the pain. With a hard tug they wrap it tightly around their midriff. They hold their hand on it for a minute. It seems to have controlled the bleeding, for now. They sit on the edge of the bed for a while. Slowly they run their hand on their back until they find a corner of fabric. They pull it off slowly. Their hair doesn’t part as they run their healthy hand through it.

“What happened?”

The human carefully puts weights on their legs, and after some easing, they finally manage to stand up, but they’re unstable. Their legs are weak, and they feel like they haven’t eaten in ages. That’s priority one, get some water and food.

Their hand leaves red marks as they take strain on the hallway wall. Every step hurts, but they have to stay determined. They know there’s has to be a kitchen here somewhere. They’re sure they heard it be mentioned. Someone did, but who?

The wooden floor in front of the human is discolored with a red hue, like a trail. Is it their blood? How much have they lost? They look down on themselves, but they can’t figure out an exact amount. The only thing they see is that it’s a lot, and it’s dried. They must’ve been out for a very long time. How did they get there? Who helped them? And where are they now?

They shake their head, questions for later. Right now they need to get some water. Their head is thumping and their throat feels like it’s made out of pebbles and sand. It hurts to swallow.

“Yes!” the human exclaims as they enter the kitchen. They hobble towards the faucet and slam it open. The water sprouts out violently and the human dives underneath it and drinks greedily. It hurts a lot to drink, but they push the pain away in their mind. The stop only to breathe before they drink more. With every mouthful they feel their head getting clearer and their body waking up.

They hear their stomach screaming for food. Eat, they gotta eat. But what? Wait, pie, there’s pie in the fridge. They know it, somehow. With their functioning hand they throw open the fridge. Their mouth waters as they spot, underneath a glass container, a pie with a piece missing. The human devours the pie in seconds and then sinks down on the tiled floor. They might’ve eaten a bit too fast, they feel a bit nauseous.

They catch their breath and look around. There’s blood everywhere they’ve been. The faucet, the fridge, the floor. They look down on themselves and only now realize how bad they smell. They rip off their sweater and it lands heavily on the floor. The stripes have been colored dark red.

Again they approach the faucet, but this time they let the cold water rinse over their head. They see the water become red as it pours all around them. As they scratch their hair to get the last drop out they recoil as they disturb a large bump. It’s sore, and the human clenches their teeth. Damn, that hurt.

The cold water is negligible as they rinse their body. They don’t care that they stain the floor below them either. They just want to get this blood off of them. After some breathing to prepare for the pain they rip off the bandage again. Their grunt fills the house, but it seems like the bleeding has stopped. How though? Was it the pie? Is it magic?

They look at their reflection in the water and as they notice that their eyes are red they feel their stomach turn. They throw up in the sink and the red from their blood mixes with the discolored sludge from their determination. Some poorly chewed pieces circle around the drain before disappearing down.

They spit. Yup, it was magical alright. With a careful hand the human feels the wound on the side. It seems to have closed a bit so at least the pie managed to heal them before rushing back up again.

Is there anything in the fridge that isn’t made from magic? Doesn’t seem like it, if they know Toriel’s cooking well. Their stomach rumbles again, and even more loudly than before. The human opens the cupboards and spot an opened package of powdered soup. They sigh in relief.

“OK,” they say to themselves as they sit down on the wooden chair in the living room. They turn around and move to the felted chair instead, “let’s see if we can figure this out.”

The soup warms very nicely and seeing that it’s made by humans it should stay inside them. They inspect their injured hand and touch it carefully. It’s broken, dammit.

They try to encourage themselves, “At least I’m alive,” but it fails. Carefully they lay down their arm on the chair and continue eating.

After a couple more servings they lean back in the chair. They will probably need to clean their wound again, but they need to relax themselves to figure out what happened.

The human lists the last things they can remember. “New home, Mettaton, Radentim, Hotland, One and Two, Lab, True Lab.” They feel their shoulders sink. “Sans, and then...” They lean their head in their hand and massages their forehead, being careful with the bulge. “And then? There was a voice? Someone was here with me, I’m sure of it.”

The human sighs through their lips. It was someone they know, they’re sure of it. Someone important.

They snap their fingers, “Flowey! He was here!” and look around. “Dammit, I missed him. So close! Why couldn’t I wake up in time?”

The human grabs the armrest and stands up. Some felt follows on their wound and they rinse it off in the kitchen. They clean their plate and put it to dry next to the others. Flowey said that he wanted to try and get help from Frisk to become Asriel again. They just have to catch up with him to make sure he doesn’t change his mind. Although, he did sound a bit hesitant towards them before he left.

What to wear though? The human needs to travel through Snowdin, and they don’t have a shirt. The human looks down, not in these pants either, they’re just as bloody. Gotta be some other clothing somewhere here.

It’s a bit easier to walk now, but the human still take strain against the wall. They enter the room they were in. They cover their face as the smell hits them. It smells horrible. How long were they in here? Too long, judging from the smell. They open the wardrobe with their knee, they don’t want to remove their arm from their mouth. The clothes in the wardrobe are far too small for them. They sigh and leave the room quickly before breathing in again. What about the other room further down? Must be Toriel’s.

The human pokes their nose in. No stench of death. They breath out in relief. The room is a bit larger than the one they were in. Same story for the bed up against the wall. The human opens the drawer and averts their eyes. They peek, and to their relief it was only socks. They close that and open the one underneath.

It’s filled with large robes. Perfect. They have the Delta Rune on them though. Not perfect. Can’t risk the monsters putting two and two together, not with how they look right now. Prancing around with the insignia of the royal family will just stir up questions, and they don’t need any right now.

The robe spreads out on the floor beneath them. The neck hole exposes their shoulders as well and the sleeves hangs limp, like their other arm. It’s a bit thin though, not enough for Snowdin. Maybe a second layer?

The robes hang heavy, and walking is again difficult because of the amount of fabric they have to keep in mind around their legs and feet. Their pants and shoes are covered though, so at least they can keep those. The Delta Rune is visible, but they couldn’t figure out how to cover it. As they put a hand on the wooden railing leading down to the basement they take a glimpse at the door. Flowey could still be at the grave. They should probably check there first.

The tree outside gives the human an idea. They reach for a low hanging branch and break it off. It helps immensely in their walking and they feel their spirit raise a bit.

The tapping of their walking stick is the only sound accompanying them as they make their way back. It’s rhythmical almost. A bit too rhythmical. They stop, but the tapping continues. The human looks around. “Flowey?”

“Could you walk again?” asks a voice. “The rhythm was good, but if you don’t wan to, I understand. In fact, let me just leave you alone. Sorry for disturbing you.”

“I wasn’t disturbed. Have you seen a flower walking by?”

No answer.

“Hello?”

Still no answer. The human shakes their head in annoyance and continues.

The way is a bit different than the human remembers, did they take a wrong turn somewhere? They come across some sharp spikes in the ground.

They whistle for the rock on the other side. “What?” it answers with a yawn.

“Can you get on the plate?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It doesn’t move.

“Please?”

“Oh, you meant now?”

“Yes!”

“No need to yell, I’m moving.”

The plate settles with a loud lick and the spikes retracts down into the ground. The stone hawks as the human passes. “Glad to help.”

“Thanks,” the human responds despite not meaning it in the slightest.

Strange, they don’t see any traces of blood anywhere. How did Flowey get them to the house? If he dragged them, did the blood dry up? How long were they in that bed? If that’s the case he must be halfway to Asriel by now. Still, gotta make sure.

The spike bridge is easily solved as the human pokes ahead with their walking stick. The door proves a bit hard to open though. The human leans on it and as they do small stone land on their head. They take a step back and a rock the size of their fist crashes down in front of them.

The ground is littered with debris. “Flowey!” the human calls out. “Are you here? We’ll go to the Surface together, it will be better that way!” It’s quiet. The human observes the area, maybe they can spot him.

They spot something alright, but it isn’t Flowey. Carefully they navigate through the stones and boulders. They see the one they hit their head on, it’s surrounded by larger rocks. The blood is dried. Dammit, they’ve were out for some time. The human turns around and almost trip as their stick gets caught up in something. They catch their footing and dust is thrown in the air. The human looks down.

A blue jacket lies empty underneath a boulder right next to the one they hit their head on. Dust is spread out around it, and on the boulder. The human grabs it and tugs on it, but the hoodie is stuck. They twist it around and tug again. The hoodie is ripped off and the human stumbles back. They lean against a boulder with the jacket in hand. Various stains covers it. The human turns it around and sticks their arms into it. They zip it and to their delight it covers the insignia on their robe.

They don’t know what words to say, so they simply turn on their heels. They put their injured arm into the pocket. It touches something metallic. They remove the injured arm with their functioning one and lift up a locket. It’s theirs. The human feels their neck. No locket there. How did he grab it? During the shortcut? And why?

The human hangs the locket around their neck again. Not like he can answer them now. Need to focus on the people alive. He knew the risks, even though they weren’t for him. The human closes the large doors behind them.

Their breath forms vapor as they walk down the long corridor under Toriel’s house. Another set of double doors are askew and the human squeezes through. The snow underneath them crunches with a pleasant sound as they walk through it. It was a good idea that they chose to wear Sans’ jacket, they’re freezing underneath and over it. As long as it covers their torso and back it should be enough for the trip to Snowdin. They pull the robe up over their mouth and nose though. They know they’re being watched, they can even spot the cameras around them since they looked through them when they were in the Lab. Last thing they need is for people to recognize them and ask questions.

The human passes a guard station. It’s unmanned, and will remain so. They readjusts his jacket.

“Ice day for a walk?”

The human ignores the pun.

“Come on, chill out. Why in such a rush?”

“I’m busy,” the human says firmly. “I have places to be.”

“Please, I need to practice for my tour on the Surface,” the monster pleads.

“Then why are you here in the most desolate of places?”

The human curses their tongue. Why did they engage in conversation?

The monster rushes up to them from the side of the road and joins the human in their walk. “You see, since my specialty is snow jokes I seek inspiration here. Makes my puns more,” the pause for effect and the smug smile doesn’t sit well with the human, ”cool.”

“Yes,” the human fakes a smile, “very. Listen, did you see a flower go through here?”

“Icently?”

The human bites their lip. “Yes or no?”

“Yes, I think.”

“Think?”

“I don’t know, maybe I had a brain freeze.”

That’s it. The human slams their stick on a bell sitting on the next guard station’s desk. It rings loudly.

A dog stands up very sneakily and with eyes darting back and forth. “Who’s there? Move so I can see you. Also,” the dog picks up a paper after some searching. He shakes it in front of his face, “if this is about a human sighting, we don’t take those anymore. Unless,” the dog extends a finger, “you see one walking alone. A large group are touring the Underground with Asgore, important humans. If you see one of those you can report to us. But a human that’s not important is to be ignored. Unless they’re not with the group, in which case you should report to us since they’re not supposed to be in the Underground. Is that clear?.” The dog nods. “Signed, Undyne.” The dog returns the paper under his desk. “So, what brings you here?” He narrows his eyes. “Whoever you are? Please move.”

The human stares at the dog, baffled.

The dog growls, “If this is a prank,” and taps angrily on the desk, ”I swear.”

The human clears their throat. “I caught this young monster vandalizing,” they lie as they push the monster next to them forward with their feet.

The dog raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

The drake shakes its head. “No, I’m innicent.”

“Please take them to their parents,” the human insists.

“I don’t know who you are, but I’m the guard here, and I’m-”

The human interrupts with a hand on the dog’s head. They pet the dog and its tail starts waggling. After some scratches behind the dog’s ear it moans sadly for more. “You’ll get another one once you return after escorting this monster back home.”

The dog nods excitingly and grabs the protesting monster by the collar and rushes off. The human continues, alone. The sound of struggling and snow puns fades as they keep their distance.

Some cold walking later the human smacks their legs to get some warmth back into them. They pass a table with some frozen spaghetti on it. A bent fork lies next to it. Seems like someone tried to eat the spaghetti. The human shakes their head.

“Careful where you step,” informs a monster in a hard hat. “We’re reconstructing some old puzzles for the human entourage. Nothing dangerous, just don’t step on anything.”

“Why? Weren’t the puzzles here to stop the humans?”

“It’s the New Chapter manifest invoked by Asgore. Haven’t you heard? Huh, word travels slow. Anyway, we’re to turn anything that was against the humans, towards the humans. So we’re removing the danger and resetting them to work in the other direction.”

The human turns their head back. “Are they gonna travel through the Ruins?”

“No, the tour ends here after the puzzles.” The monster leans over her spade. “Between you and me, I reckon Queen Toriel had a say in the matter.”

The human nods. “Could be.”

“Well, I outta get back to it. The humans are gonna be here any minute now. Please don’t step on any puzzles.”

The human continues for a couple of step before stopping and turning around. “Um, excuse me?”

The worker looks up from her tinkering. “Yes?”

“There’s a puzzle after this bridge.”

“Yes?”

“And I need to go through it.”

“Yes?”

“But you said I weren’t to step on any puzzles.”

“Yes?”

“So, how am I to pass?”

“Isn’t he there?” The monster looks at the watch on one of her many arms. “Oh, he’s on lunch now, but he should be back any minute.”

“Who?”

“Yes.”

The monster returns to her work.

A couple of cold minutes later a small bird in an orange vest lands in front of the human. “Hi, I’m Woh. You need to get over the puzzles?”

The human nods and the bird grabs them by the head with its tiny talons. It hums a very energetic melody as it flies over the puzzle. “There we go,” it says with pride as it puts down the human on the other side. “Just be careful with the next one.”

It flies off to its coworker and the human just shakes their head. They slide over the next puzzle through some trees and finally end up in Snowdin.

Their stomach rumbles and they wonder if it’s worth to risk a meal at Grillby’s. They don’t have any money though, so even if-

“And here we have Snowdin,” echoes a proud and deep voice, “this is the last settlement we will be visiting today, but we have something interesting to show you at the end of it.”

Asgore, and he’s with the human group. Dammit!

The doors to Grillby’s is slammed behind the human and they walk quickly up to the bar.

The warmth of the bartender surrounds both him and the human as he walks up. “Burger and a soda,” the human asks. They tug at their jacket. “Sans told me to put it on his tab.”

Grillby raises a flaming eyebrow from behind his glasses. The human shows the various condiment spots on Sans jacket until Grillby nods and puts up a burning hand to stop the human. He leaves for the kitchen.

“So, Jimmy,” asks a dog to a large and dark wolf opposite them in a booth, “you sad about them shutting down the CORE?”

“A bit, but I got these sweet pants,” the wolf admits, “so I’m not that down.”

“Are you the one that throws the ice blocks into the river?” the human asks.

“Yeah!” nods Jimmy.

“Sorry for asking, but couldn’t you just extend the conveyor belt?”

The wolf raises a finger to protest, but it’s lowered as his face sinks deep in thought. “Yeah,” he says with his eyebrows furrowed, “why didn’t we just do that?”

“I mean, then it wouldn’t be a job? You wouldn’t have one,” wonders the dog next to him.

The wolf shakes his head.

“Could be why,” the human suggests.

“Yeah.”

The door is opened carefully. “But before we do all that, why don’t we enjoy some food? I know it might be a bit different than the restaurant at MTT Resort, but I assure you that Grillby has that name for a reason.”

A large hand is placed on the human’s shoulder. “Excuse me, but,” Asgore stops mid sentence as he feels the material between his fingers, “where did you get this robe from?”

Grillby returns with the burger and the drink.

“Where did you get this robe?” Asgore asks again, this time sternly.

The human sips some soda. Yup, definitely magical.

Oh boy.


	19. The queen's old clothes

"King Asgore? Is something the matter?" asks a human delegate from across the now crowded tavern.

His hand stays on the robe as he turns his head. "Apologies, it seems like there's been a bit of a misunderstanding. I’m gonna have a talk with this monster here.”

The human tries to move, but the hand squeezes their shoulder very tightly. They’re not going anywhere.

“Feel free to order whatever you like from our bartender, Grillby. Pardon me, I’ll join you again shortly.”

The fire monster motions for an empty booth. The human group seat themselves and smile as Grillby takes a bow with the menus. The group is hesitant to take them, but as they feel that the menus aren’t warmer than they’re used to they thank the monster. Asgore motions for the door, but the human refuses to leave. He smiles warmly and with a subtle tug the human is convinced to dismount their chair.

“Let’s take a look at those puzzles you mentioned,” Asgore suggest loudly so that the human group knows he has the situation under control. “How are the kids, by the way?” A second passes. “That’s wonderful to hear,” he says without an answer. “I’ll make sure to send them an autograph from Undyne.”

Asgore closes the door behind him and takes the human to the back of the bar. “I’m gonna ask you again,” he informs calmly, but still with a huge scoop of authority lingering, “where did you get these robes?”

The human looks away. “I found them,” they answer.

“That much I could guess,” Asgore kneels down to their level, his hand still holding the human in place, “but where? Be specific.” His grasp hardens.

The human feels his fingers rubbing against the texture of the robe. Why is he being this nosy? Can’t he just get over Toriel? Old and pathetic, that’s what he is. Wait, what are they thinking? Oh no, the soda! Their curse is getting a hold on them. The human shakes their head. Get these thoughts out!

Asgore grips the human’s chin and holds their head still. “Where did you find these robes?” he asks sternly. The human notices a faint snarl in his voice.

The faint red color of their eyes reflect in Asgore’s eyes. They force away the thoughts manifested by their curse and focus on their words. “I found them in the Garbage Dump,” they try to lie.

Asgore wrinkles his nose, but he seems to be in odds to what he’s smelling. He removes his hand from the chin and looks down. “Forgive me,” he asks with a deep sigh. “I‘ve made a mistake. I suspected you took them from Toriel. These are hers, I’ve no doubt, but the horrific smell coming off them isn’t hers. They smell like something from the Garbage Dump, no offense.”

“None taken.”

“Allow me to reimburse you for me jumping to conclusions. Come by the castle any day and I’ll have you pick out a new outfit in exchange for these. It’s only to make sure this won’t happen again, I assure you. Same material as well, if you like.”

Asgore’s hand loosens from the human’s shoulder and he sighs again with it pressed against his forehead. “Why would she throw these out?” he asks himself. “Anyway, please forgive me, it was wrong to treat one of my subjects this way.”

“Don’t worry, my king,” the human answers back with their voice masked and muffled by the robe over their mouth. They want to say a whole lot of things right now, but they have to stay focused. “I forgive you.”

The king nods weakly. “Thank you, it means a lot.”

The human feels their stomach rumble in protest. They need to get Asgore out of here. “You should probably make sure that the humans are treated well,” they suggests with a smile that they feel is a bit too eagerly. It's hidden behind the robe over their mouth, so the effect is all but guess.

“I’ve no doubt Grillby will be warm to them.”

The human’s eyes widen. If it’s because of the pun or their failed attempt to get Asgore out of there, they don’t know.

“But you’re right, I should get back to them.” Asgore takes out a notebook and pen. He scribbles down something and finishes off with a complex flair of his hand. “Show this to the castle guard, and they’ll send for me.”

The human nods and takes the card quickly. They don’t bother reading it and just shoves it into their pocket. It sticks to a spot of mustard.

Asgore bows his head. “Again, thank you for understanding.”

The human bows as well. “My king.”

Asgore’s robe is swung widely as he swirls around and it’s dragged in the snow. The sound of awes and applause is heard for a bit before it becomes quiet again. The human takes the opportunity to throw up next to a pine tree. It’s not much, but Asgore would definitely have questioned it. The horrid taste lingers in their mouth. They cover the puddle with some snow and head out again.

Thick fog covers their vision, and they are forced to navigate by the sound of rushing water in front of them. Coming from bright snow to a dark cavern isn’t really helping with visibility either, but the human’s eyes acclimate after a while. Glowing crystals illuminate from the walls, floor, and ceiling. Wide walls of water fall around them, and standing just right, they see rainbows created by the crystals and the water. It’s nice.

Another empty guard station makes the human aware of the jacket they’re wearing. It seems heavier on their shoulder. They unzip it now that they’ve left Snowdin. It’s still a bit chilly, but it’s not cold enough to warrant this thick of a layer. Besides, it’s only gonna get warmer after this.

“Next up is Snowdin,” an Echo flower explains with Assgore’s voice. “Thank you. Here, for your warmth.” The sound of fabric rustling replaces Asgore’s voice for a minute. “Now, Snowdin was first founded after,” his voice trails off as the human continues walking.

They cross a bridge covering a stream carrying a large amount of rocks. Judging by the quiet crashes far below they must be falling for quite a while. Now that they think about it, how deep is the hole? If the rocks fall constantly, shouldn’t they pile up? The human looks over the edge, but they only see the rocks fall into the abyss. Dammit, focus. Just keep walking.

Their ground below them turns softer, and as the human looks down they see that it’s a patch of cut grass. It’s cut very thinly. By Undyne perhaps? Could be Asgore as well. Or just a monster in general.

They walk over some glowing flowers floating on groups of water. They pass a couple before catching themselves not questioning it. The situation feels normal for them. If that’s a good or bad thing to feel they’re not sure of. Whatever, just keep walking.

“My deepest apologies for that, the monster sends his apologies as well. Did you spot some of the constellations I described?” asks an Echo flower, again sounding like Asgore. “Yes,” it answers with another voice. “I managed to find the Delta Rune,” the flower says with an impressed tone. “Splendid,” comes Asgore’s voice again. “Shall we continue?”

“You’re trying my patience here, Jerry,” whispers another Echo flower a couple of steps away with a snarl. “Why aren’t you at your post?” The flower scoffs. “So, like, why would I listen to you? We’re free now. I don’t care at all what you have to say, my ex king.” The voice is grating and abhorrent. Sounds like someone you would ditch immediately. “I go where I want, when I want. In fact, I want to go to the humans and kick them in the shin. What are you gonna do about that?”

The flower breathes slowly. “Jerry,” Asgore speaks again. The disdain and annoyance in his voice makes it seem like the Echo flower is withering. “Go back to your post.” The flower scoffs again. “No,” the other monster voice says smugly and with an underlying tone of wrongly appointed self superiority as loud as the volume of distaste it spouts through the Echo flower. The sound of it makes the human stop in their step and images of them throwing the monster off Mt. Ebott fills their head. They smile at the thought.

Damn, their curse is resurfacing. The human leans in with their eye close to a crystal, but their eyes aren’t red. It’s no their curse producing these thoughts, it’s them. Strange, but judging by the things the monster has said, it seems to be normal. It’s clear that the monster Asgore is talking to is akin to an entire tree under his fingernail. Claw, whatever. Asgore is not angry by nature, so this must be someone he also dreads to interact with. Never before has the human heard Asgore’s voice be this sour and bitter.

“No, I won’t go back. Now move it, I’m gonna kick some shins,” the flower informs. A small huff follows. “This is for the future of the monsters, Jerry,” Asgore again snarls. He’s struggling to keep his voice down. “I’m giving you one last chance to get back to your post. Otherwise I’m gonna let Undyne come up with the most creative punishment she can.”

There’s a second of silent.

“I-I,” the annoying voice stammers, “I forgot something at my post, I’m not following your orders.”

The human indulges in the fear that the voice has. It feels good.

“Serene, wasn’t it? As you may have guessed by now, I’ve showed you the scenic route through the Underground. We will take a more suitable route on the way back. Just a couple of corners left and we’ll arrive at our final section of the Underground. I’ve also planned something a bit special that I hope that you will all enjoy,” talks a third flower, again with Asgore’s voice. “King Asgore,” the flower changes voice, “this has been a very pleasant walk through your kingdom. The history and variety of your people is breathtaking.”

The flower produces a sound of metal being moved and placed. “And that’s not all,” says Asgore's voice, “I assume that you’ve all seen the crystal formations in the cavern roof? During our time here we substituted them for the stars, and created constellations. If you look through this telescope I will point you to some.”

A large and unpleasant fart interrupts Asgore. After a stunned silence there’s an even louder belch. “You all look like a bunch of-” The annoying voice is muffled and Asgore starts speaking again. “Excuse me for just a second.”

The repeated conversations of the flower fades as the human leaves the room behind them.

The ground underneath them shifts again to creaking wood. A long bridge lies before them. It’s quiet, the water under the bridge is still. It’s a nice change from the waterfalls and the Echo flowers. Quiet, some time to think, and reflect. Prepare mentally for how to bring back Asriel. They’ve already undergone stuff to last a lifetime. More than one, even, and the human suspect more is to come. Right now they can just relax their eyes, and take in the silence around them.

“Wosh you jacket.”

The words echoes around the large room. The human scans the dark, but they can’t see where the voice came from.

“Wosh away.”

Their foot gets stuck under something and the human loses their balance. Despite their panicked flailing to recover they fall over the side of the bridge. They land with a heavy splash. Quickly they resurface and gasp for air.

Looking over the edge of the bridge is a small and smiling monster. An excited bird flaps its wings in a glass dome on its head. It nods to the human and tosses a bar of soap to them. “Cleaning, cleaning, la la la,” it sings.

The soap lands in front of the human’s face and some water gets in their eye. They swim back to the bridge and grabs the edge. The monster stomps on their hand and they fall back into the water. “Ouch! Why did you do that?"

The monster points to the bar of soap floating away. “Wosh you jacket.”

“No, help me up instead!” the human spits back.

The bird starts pecking on the glass. “Wosh. You. Jacket!” the monster growls.

The sounds of the human swimming through the once calm and still water masks their mumbling of obscenities and curses towards the monster on the bridge. At first the soap slinks away and the human is forced to take another stroke, but then they catch it. Angrily they rub the soap on the jacket, and even more angrily they wash it off in the water. A ring of bubbles and soap mixed with condiments expands around them. “Good enough?” they ask as they turn around.

“Never seen someone like you before,” wonders an old and raspy voice, “and you wear the robe of our queen.” He leans on his walking stick and narrows his eyes at the strange creature in the water surrounded by soap. “Pray tell, who are you?”

“If you help me up I’ll tell you.”

Gerson shakes his head. “No, that’s fine, I can hear you from where you are.” He points with his stick. “You missed a spot as well. Right, Woshua?”

Woshua agrees with a nod.

“And if this melon of mine serves me correctly, and before you say anything, no, it hasn’t failed me yet, despite my age, I’m pretty sure all your splashing and mumbling might have woken the one sleeping below.”

The human looks down into the water. It’s black as the void, they can barely see their body. ”Sleeping?”

“And you haven’t heard of the one sleeping below?” Gerson strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Peculiar. The one below is one of the most feared monsters in the Underground.”

The human stops moving, and the ripples from their strokes fades. “You’re lying.”

“Yet you still thought it would be a good idea to stop moving.” Gerson nods. “I agree, but it’s probably too late now.”

The water is again disturbed as the human swims as fast as their fear can. “Help me up!”

“Tell me who you are.”

“Just give me your goddamn hand!”

The old turtle puts his hand behind him. “My back is hurting a bit.”

Large bubbles start oozing up from the depths behind the human. They feel something move below them. Something is coming up!

“I’m a human!” they scream and reach up with their hand.

Gerson grabs it. “See, wasn’t that hard now was it?”

The human rolls up on the wooden bridge a second before long and thick tentacles bursts violently from the water. An enormous head follows and it breathes in heavily.

“Humans are here, wonderful day. Humans for us, wonderful me,” it starts singing completely out of tone.

“Greetings, Onionsan,” smiles Gerson. “I afraid I have some bad news for you, you missed the group.”

The large smile sinks into a frown. “I did?”

“Luckily I found this one that’s overwhelmed with happiness to hear your singing. You’ve made enormous progress these last days. It’s just a matter of time before Mettaton, or the entire Surface for that matter, will be begging for you to sing.”

The enormous yellow monster’s face shines up again. “You think?”

Gerson adjusts his glasses. “I know. For that though you must continue practice. You promise me that, Onionsan?”

The monster nods with glee and sinks back down below the surface. Gurgled singing can be heard as it travels deeper, but eventually the room becomes quiet again, and the water still.

Gerson turns to the human and hits them gently with his stick. “Come, you can explain yourself over tea.”


	20. Lemon scented lies

Gerson motions for the same seat he did the last time the human visited. "How do you like your tea?” he asks as he tip toes around piles of old memorabilia. “And try to keep your fingers to yourself."

The human takes the seat they were offered. A towel is tossed from the kitchen and they catch it. Following it is a hoodie covered in stars and Mettaton’s face along with a pair of trousers with similar colors. A pair of shoes are placed gently on the pile.

“Her robes stay here,” Gerson inform as he points to a pair of curtains. “Dry yourself and switch them out.”

As the human makes their way around the piles of stuff inside Gerson’s shop they remember, “Actually, I have this note saying,” and reach into their pocket, but the note is destroyed from the bath they had.

“Yes?” Gerson’s head asks as it furrows its brow at the human from the kitchen.

“Nevermind,” the human sighs and pulls the curtains around them. The clothes fit rather loosely, but they would take these over what Alphys gave them any day.

The smell of hot Golden Flower tea hits their nose as they pull the curtains back. They keep the towel around their face and the hoodie up just in case. Locket in their pocket, and their broken hand as nonchalantly as possible at their side. It still hurts a lot.

“So,” Gerson starts as he pours the human a cup, “how and why did you steal Toriel’s robes?”

“If I were just to go, what would stop me?”

Gerson dries off some drops that spilled on his table. “Nothing would stop you from leaving, but you wouldn’t get far. The Royal Guard would be on you at the snap of my finger. They’re on high alert because of the human delegates touring the land.”

The human shrugs. “I made it this far.”

With a smile Gerson snaps his fingers. Not a second later a small group of armored guards salute outside his hole, completely blocking any light from entering. Gerson pokes a mushroom on his ceiling to light up the dark the guards summoned. “Could you please ask Onionsan to go back to their water?” he asks the dogs at his door. He throws a thumb towards the human. “Scared my friend here.”

The guards nod in sync and disappear as quickly as they came. Gerson takes a sip of tea. “So, where did you find the robes?”

The human sits down. “I found them in the Garbage Dump,” the human retorts before realizing that they can’t drink the tea with the towel wrapped around their mouth. They ease it a bit and pour the hot tea carefully.

“Wa ha ha, I might be old and look like a turtle to you, but you can’t pull a fast one on me!” Gerson pushes his walking stick against the human’s chest. “Where?”

The human almost drops their cup. “Garbage Dump,” they repeat.

Gerson cocks his head and strokes his chin. “Has her house fallen that much into disrepair? The one in the Ruins?”

“No.”

The human sees their word exit their mouth, but they fail to catch it. Their face contorts, they screwed up.

"Dammit."

Gerson removes his walking stick with a satisfied smile. “Aha, so you were at Toriel’s house. That solves the where. Now, for the better question,” with a single finger he lifts his cup to his mouth, “why?” but sets it down again. “You know what? Why don’t I take a look for myself?”

He struggles to get up which gives the human time to get to their old clothes before him. They sit still though, running over their would only raise suspicions even further. If they’re lucky he won’t find anything.

Gerson’s moves the curtains out of the way and pokes the pile around with his stick. He mumbles for himself as he lifts up one of Toriel’s robe. “At least they cleaned it.”

“Didn’t really have a say in that matter,” the human explains.

Gerson ignores the answer. “Blood?” he instead asks out loud with the bloodied pants on the end of his stick. “Well now, isn’t this interesting.”

He rejoins the human at the table after some pained grunting. “Care to explain?”

The human shakes their head.

“Wasn’t a question, human.”

“I mean-”

With a swift strike Gerson hits the human over their head with a magnifying glass he drew from his shirt pocket. “Don’t be a smartass!”

The hit barely misses the bulge, but it still hurts like hell. “I had to get through Snowdin, and needed something to keep me warm.”

“Why were you in the Ruins to begin with, human?” Gerson leans over the table with his magnifying glass pointed against the human like a weapon. “Why are you in the Underground to begin with?”

“I,” the human lowers their head, “I fell.”

Gerson raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He scans the human’s eye to see if they’re lying. He doesn’t find anything, and sighs as he leans back again into his chair. “And here I thought that Asgore would prioritize covering up that hole.” Gerson laughs for himself. “Wa ha ha! The first thing Fluffybun did up on the Surface was apparently to stick his head up in the clouds. You need to get your priorities straight, Asgore, you silly goat. If anything it’s a good sign that he's acclimating. Right, human?”

They nod.

“Sorry to give you the scares, but seeing a rogue human walking around with Toriel’s clothing in the opposite direction of the group? It kicks the old guard mentality awake again. I agree that I might've stepped a bit out of line with the whole monster under the lake show. High alert and all that. I guess my retirement is only on paper.” Gerson hums for himself. “Anyhoo, take the clothes and tea as an apology, please?”

“Sure, thank you.”

“Appreciate it, human.” Gerson taps his fingers on his knuckles. ”I also think it would be best if you left the robes and your old clothes here. I imagine walking around all bloodstained would turn some heads on the Surface as well? Because as you can see it will happen down here as well. Or, even better, you can buy a backpack from me!” Gerson throws one up on the table. “Good quality at a reasonable price.”

The human pats themselves. “I don’t have any money with me.”

“Not even in Toriel’s robes? I see.” The backpack is knocked off the table with a disappointed hand. “Then perhaps you’d be interested in doing me a favor?”

“I’m kinda in a rush. I’m looking for someone.”

“In the Underground? Pray tell.”

“Yes and no. I don’t know where they are exactly. They could be up on the Surface for all I know.” The human hates that they have to ask. It’s risky, but it’s necessary. “Have you seen a flower walk by?”

Gerson gives his forehead a good and long scratch before shaking his head. “Sorry, kiddo, can’t say that I have.” He puts his magnifying glass over his one open eye. “And nothing gets pass this old Royal Guard without me noticing.”

“Gerson!” yells a voice from outside. A monster is smiling and waving one of its many hands. “I’ve been waving for a couple of minutes now, are you open?”

Gerson hawks before the human can say anything. “Yes, what are you lookin’ for?”

“You still have some of those notebooks?”

Gerson nods, “Wa ha ha, I have plenty. Just give me a moment,” and turns towards the human. “Third shelf to the left, would you kindly?”

There is no third shelf to the left, there’s only two. The human scratches their head. “Where was it again, Gerson?” the human wonders as they return from Gerson's storage.

“Thanks! Wa ha ha,” Gerson waves as his customer walks off with a notebook under their arm.

“Why?” asks the human with a perplexed hand.

“Because I don’t want you to get any bright ideas and start swinging around that notebook all willy nilly.”

“Undyne has trained me, so I wouldn’t really call it willy nilly.”

Gerson’s face shines up. “Really? One on one?”

“Yup, on top of Mt. Ebott as well.”

“So, the little urchin shares her craft with the humans? These are truly times of change, I can tell you that. Had you asked her the day before Frisk arrived she would’ve gladly showed you, but not with a weapon of your own to defend yourself.” Gerson nods towards a picture of him and a Undyne as a child standing toe to toe. “Good to hear that she’s getting comfortable with you humans.” His brow furrows in thought. “Although, I thought it would take longer for her. Maybe I didn’t know her as much as I thought I did. I should invite her over for some tea. Maybe then she can start cleaning up that burnt crisp of a house she has here. Ten push ups for every morning I have to wake up to the smell of coal and ash!” Gerson is taken back as he spots the human again. It’s almost like he forgot they were standing there. “Sorry, am I rambling?”

“Um...”

Gerson waves a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes, no need to be snarky. Just take your clothes and leave.”

“But-”

Gerson produces a plastic bag from underneath his counter and tosses it to the human. It stops halfway in the air and flutters down on the ground. He curses under his breath as he bends over to pick it up. “There we go. Be careful out there, human. Sorry about the scare with the memory box. No hard feelings?”

The human freezes in place. Dammit, they thought they were in the clear! Just nod, don’t say anything. Take your stuff and go. Not another word, don’t feed his memory.

“You’re walking back to Hotland! Wait, didn’t you come from over there?”

Don’t answer him, just don’t. Wave, and smile.

The deafening roar of the waterfalls around them drowns out Gerson’s waving and shouting, and soon the human finds themselves in a pitch black room. The ground sounds a bit weird as well. The human squats down and picks up some shredded paper strewn on the ground. “Confetti?” they ask out loud.

Something jumps them from the dark. The human stumbles back with it in their arms. “Hoi!” it yells uncomfortably loud. “Human?”

Thick pustules starts forming on the Temmie’s face and it starts vibrating with excitement. “Bob! Is new human!”

“There’s some more humans here, M! Tem, hit the switch again!” commands a deep voice from far into the dark. The ground lights up in a mysterious cyan color. Trees flash into view like lighthouses with the same color as the ground.

As the human recovers from the light they’re approached by a large entourage of balloons and confetti. It rains over them and gets stuck in their hair. A wooden platform with two large bright red curtains is rolled up to them. There’s some whispering before the curtains are pulled apart and more confetti is shoot towards the human.

“Welcome back to another spectacular interview with the humans!”

Goddammit, it’s Mettaton.

“You thought that the first one was a fluke? That Undyne figured out my plans and managed to hold me up as the human group passed?” His grip on his microphone hardens. “To that I say, down with censorship! My journalistic endeavors will never be silenced. You can join in too, by buying my new collection. 'MTT Truth', available now at your local MTT shop.”

A camera hovering over Mettaton’s shoulder tilts up and the human pulls their shirt over their face.

“Now, polish that edge of your seat because now is an opportunity to once again, live in front of the entire Underground, learn more about what life is on the Surface!” continues Mettaton.

Fireworks fly up around him and explode dangerously close to the ceiling in a spectrum of color and various figures of Mettaton. A live band consisting of ghost starts playing behind Mettaton. He jumps down and rolls up to the human. With an extended arm he removes the Temmie from the human’s arms, and then its giggling face.

His microphone hits the human on the mouth. “So, tell me, and all of my beautiful viewers sitting at home eating MTT branded snacks and drinking MTT branded sodas made from the best human soul substitute, everything about the Surface.”

The human pushes the microphone away. “I don’t have time, sorry.”

Mettaton looks at his arm, “It’s around dinner,” and spins around towards the camera hovering behind him. “And that would be a good time to enjoy some MTT branded TV filler upper. Cooked to perfection in less than a commercial break. See you after this one!”

Some more music is played before Mettaton turns back towards the human. He beckons for them to come down, but the human shakes their head. He extends his leg and leans in towards the human. “Listen.”

The human shakes their head again, “No,” and walks away.

Mettaton puts an arm around the human’s waist and pulls them back. “Oh, darling, don’t be so hasty. I can tell by your apparel that you’re already a huge fan of me. Tell you what, darling dearest.”

“Don’t.”

“Why don’t you just give me five minutes of your time and then I’ll let you go with my autograph on that shirt of yours. Heck, why not two?”

“Let me go,” the human makes sure that every word is as crystal clear as possible, “now.”

“Human, why do you want to deny hope to the Underground? We’re gonna live with you soon, so why not try and ease the tensions between us? I’m doing this for the monsters, for the Underground. It’s the start of a brand new world, with humans and monsters living together, and if I can do even the slightest to assure the safety and cooperation of both of our races, I will give it my damnedest. The bond we once shared will be restored. The sins of the past have been forgotten, and the Underground needs to know that you humans are welcoming this new chapter as well. We need a pair of human eyes we can look into and a human mouth to say that it’s gonna be a bright future, one that we’re more than welcome to join. That we will finally be enveloped by the rays of our collective sun, and have our breath taken away by the countless stars twinkling in peace as we did so many years ago. Human and monsters, together again. We will be neighbors. We will be coworkers.” Mettaton puts a hand on the human’s shoulder. “We will be friends!”

A single eyebrow is raised by the human. “How much did you pay for your underlings to write that?”

“Tem flakes!”

The human jumps from the loud shout behind them. A tower of Temmies collapses and one scurries away with papers flying from its mouth. The human rolls their eyes at the spectacle.

Mettaton keeps his hand on the human’s shoulder, much to their dismay. “Listen, human, darling, sweetie. Forget about all that, because I sure didn’t remember any of it. Five minutes, then I’ll be out of your,” Mettaton brushes away the confetti from the human's, “hair.”

The human looks at the lights and equipment around them. With Mettaton’s grip around their waist and their injured arm they’re not going anywhere. They sigh in defeat. “Five minutes.”

“Thank you, human. It means a lot.”

“Spare me. Also I have one condition, don’t show my face.”

“Why of course, human. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Mettaton whistles and a vibrating Temmie gives a mask to the human. “Radentim haven’t worked on you.”

What in the world have they’ve been given? “Why does it look like Frisk?” the human asks accusingly while waving the face in Mettaton’s face.

Mettaton finishes filing his nails. “It was the only good reference of a human I had. Now quiet, my dear human. Not actually quiet, because I want you to answer my questions, darling, but for now.”

With a reluctant hand the human pulls the mask over their head. “Clock’s ticking.”

Mettaton waves to the band and they start playing. He whispers something to the human, but the music is too loud.

“What?”

Mettaton welcomes back his apparent viewers after another short musical interlude. “It’s time to open up another bag of MTT synthetic popcorn because I have with me a live and breathing human, and this one can actually open their mouth.”

Laughter is played through some speakers out of sight for the camera, and Mettaton’s microphone bounces on the human’s mouth. Again.

“You were about to tell us about the Surface?”

“I guess.”

Mettaton throws a handful of confetti into the air. “Wonderful.”

Applauds burst from the speakers as the confetti flutters down gently in between the human and Mettaton,. “So, first question, tell us about the Surface.”

“That isn’t a-” The human hawks. “The Surface is great. It has sun, rain where you don’t expect it, and thunder.”

The gasps from the speakers would drain the Underground of air if the audience was real. Mettaton tilts his head towards his camera. “Isn’t this just magnificent, my darling viewers? You’ve just heard the first weather report from the Surface! Be sure to prepare by buying the proper MTT branded clothing. Remember, no bad weather, just bad clothes, that isn’t MTT branded.”

The speakers roar with cheers, but is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing.

“Caller, you’re on the air live with the human! Speak your heart, what do you want to ask the human?”

“I was wondering. Mettaton is a very cool and influential idol with quality products and food,” says a poorly masked voice of Mettaton through the speakers. “How am I to purchase such fabulous products once I move to the Surface?”

“An excellent question,” exclaims Mettaton. “So, human, how can you buy MTT branded products up on the Surface?”

Baffled by the question the human furrows their brow at the microphone held up against the lips of their mask. “Um, you can’t.”

“I’m devastated to inform you that the human is right, caller. But not for long!” A large banner with MTT’s face is dropped from the ceiling. “Introducing, the MTT Surface Branch! Yes, with the Barrier now broken MTT will show the surface what quality and mass production truly is. Freedom from the Underground means freedom to expand. Contact your local MTT branded store to see how you can be a part of the new MTT Surface chain.”

The human applauds with their one functioning hand, and takes a bow. “Five minutes are up. Take care, Mettaton.”

“Yes, and I’d like to thank the human for their time. Their appearances is gonna stick with them, and us, for a lifetime.”

“It was a pleasure being here, thank you.”

The human sets course for Hotland, again.

“Oh, human?” A deep and metallic click echoes through the cavern. “I wouldn’t be where I am if I didn’t give my guests their proper goodbye, now would I?”

The human turns to inform that his goodbye was well enough, but a torrent of Temmies carrying a large felted chair scoops them up and places them on an ornate pedestal. Colorful lights surround the human and more balloons and confetti rains down on them.

A long and metallic leg steps over the chair and a grinning smile peeks from under a luscious black fringe. “Comfortable? I hope so, my sweetie human.” Mettaton sits himself on the armrest. “Because we’re just getting started on your fifteen minutes of fame.”


	21. Metal blusher

"I didn't know humans could do magic. That was a scary one you pulled off."

The human waits for the energetic music to hit a low point before answering. "Pun intended?"

"Wa ha ha, no. Why didn't you tell me your arm was broken, human? Must’ve hurt to pull off your finger like that as well. You want me to bandage it as well?" Gerson tightens the bandage around the arm and the stick supporting it, and hoists it up against their chest with some cloth around the human's shoulder. They grunt in pain. "You want it to hurt a little bit now and not a lot later, trust me," explains Gerson with a smile on his lips.

A Temmie splits the curtains above Gerson and the human, and vibrates gently to the ground. Gerson puts a finger to his mouth and the Temmie head shakes in response. If it was willingly or not the human can't tell, but Gerson seems satisfied with the answer. The Temmie jumps back through the opening it created with a gleeful squeal. Gerson returns his attention to the human's arm as the music climbs back up in intensity.

“This is what I was talking about! Don’t be fooled by the music and my spectacular dance moves, dear viewers. Do be swept away by them though. Hands off me, guard! This is an attempt at censorship if I ever saw one!” informs Mettaton loudly and sternly. Presumably to his camera.

Gerson scoffs, and dries off the spit from the human’s cast. “Alphys, why did you ever invent him? I need to have a talk with her as well. Maybe she can dial back him a bit.”

The commotion on the other side of the scene drowns out the already loud music. Metal against magic, roars against laughter.

“I think he might be enjoying himself,” the human thinks out loud.

Gerson puts a hand behind his ear. “Pardon?”

“I said,” the human leans nearer, “I think he might be enjoying himself!”

“Hundred gold says his viewership is coming close to the fight he had with Frisk. I don’t like that.” His hands stop with the bandaging. “Wait, should I have said that?”

A magenta dagger cuts through the fabric of the red drapes and disperses as it ricochets off the rocky wall behind the scene.

The human puts their hand behind their ear. “Heard what?”

Gerson shrugs his shoulder. “Nothing, just rambling.” The human sees his silent sigh of relief. “By the way, sorry for not remembering that Mettaton was here earlier.”

The vertigo is still present with the human from how high Mettaton hauled them up on that chair. What’s more vivid is the fear and shock on Mettaton’s face as they did their thumb magic once again. The memory wins, and the human smiles.

With a last tug of the bandage Gerson brushes his hands off on his jacket. “Good as new. I mean-”

“I know what you meant.” The human nods. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Now,” Gerson motions for an opening in the cavern, “let’s see if we can get out of this without being noticed.”

“Do you see this, sweetie viewers? I am being held by multiple guards!” Mettaton exclaims in a panic. Entirely fake panic, but panic nonetheless.

The human peeks under the curtains to assess the situation. Mettaton is indeed being held by four guards, but that doesn’t stop him from running around in a circle unhindered, and flailing around with his arms. Two small monsters are holding on for dear life as his arms curl around like cooked spaghetti noodles. His face is always pointed against the camera and his woes about how he’s being silenced and the unspeakable amount of gratuitous violence against him.

“You can join in the fight, by not switching channels during this commercial break,” he prays to the camera before blowing it a kiss. “See you soon, darlings.”

The commotion stops, and Mettaton eyes focus on his hair. “Could you just make sure my fringe is hanging right, darlings?” he asks the monsters grasping onto his arms. “Maybe give it a bit of a trim with that gorgeous dagger of yours?”

Perplexed, the guard monsters look at each other. Mettaton rolls his eyes and scoffs in annoyance. “I’ll do it myself then. Though you are some fantastic actors, I need to get you all some contracts. Bob!” he shouts. “Get me a stack of contracts!”

While he’s busy admiring himself in the mirror extended from his body Gerson leads the human along the dark wall to the exit.

“You think the guards will manage Mettaton?” the human asks after they’re sure they’re out of hearing distance.

“Wa ha ha, don’t you worry, human. Mettaton won’t hurt them. It would make him look bad in front of his viewers, or worse,” Gerson takes strain on the human as he’s laughing so much, “dent his body.”

The human laughs with Gerson. “Sounds about right.”

“I’ve trained them,” Gerson reassures with a nudge with his elbow, “and I promise you that they’re not giving it their all. I just ordered them to keep him occupied, that’s all. If there’s one thing that can defeat Mettaton without dust being spilled, it’s his ego. His greatest power, and weakness.”

“It was kinda funny seeing you just walk through it all, Gerson. I thought Mettaton would grab you.”

Gerson gives the human a cheeky wink. “I’m not allowed on his show after the last time I was there. Took Monster Lawyer an entire hour just to explain to me why my three season contract was terminated after one episode.“

The human nods towards their makeshift cast. “By the way, where did you learn to treat broken bones like this? Can’t monsters just heal injuries? You didn’t do it before.”

Gerson’s gaze seems to stretch for miles as his steps slow down. “I watched, and learned from you humans a long time ago.” He takes a deep breath and his eye returns to the human. “Here’s where our paths diverge, human,” he informs with a finger towards a turn the both of them just passed. “There’s just some very pretty views ahead of you until you reach Hotland. Good luck with your arm, and may I apologize again for jumping to conclusions?”

The human takes his outstretched hand. “Don’t think about it, Gerson.”

His whistling blends with the energetic music as the human continues down the turn alone.

A field of Echo Flowers lies before them, and as they near it, the flowers start talking about how exciting it is for the monsters to finally move to the Surface. A myriad of voices surround them with hopes and dreams of a shared future between humans and monsters. A lot of it sounds familiar.

The human spots a notebook and a worn down pencil next to a flower. The paper has smudged paw prints on it. Seems like Mettaton got as much originality as he payed for.

“Now, I’ve talked to you about Echo Flowers, and in here I asked my people to talk about their vision of our future,” Asgore's voices says from the flower at the end of the room. His voice is radiating with pride. “Please, hear their words. Take your time.”

The human looks over the field of glowing flowers casting the room in a dim, but still sharp, cyan color. The light mixes beautifully with yellow as a swarm of fireflies dance around them. As they land on the flowers different monster voices talk about how cool the Surface is. “Yoooo, it’s the best!”, says one as a fly lands on it. It takes off after a second. “There’s like, rain and stuff,” the flower continues.

“Hello there, friend!” a jolly and innocent voice calls. “You must be a human. Asgore told me to get you a free nice cream. If you want one, that is.”

A nice cream shaped like a human is handed to the human. “Thanks,” they thank with humanity present in their voice. The humanity they have, not the one they were given. Though they’re thankful for that humanity though, even if it’s currently outside them. Though soon it will be inside them, along with their other humanity.

Nice Cream Guy waves his confused hand in front of the human’s face. “How are you, friend? Brain freeze? You haven’t had a bite yet, how come?”

The questions snaps the human back to reality. “No, sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts. Thank you for this.”

The blue bunny nods and his ears follow his head a second afterwards. “Anytime, friend. Say, where is your group?”

“They’re up ahead, in Snowdin.”

“They’re up ahead, in Snowdin,” repeats a nearby Echo Flower as a firefly lands on it.

Nice Cream Guy’s ears and shoulders sink. “Drat, I was sure I would catch them. I missed them in Hotland. There was this huge dog that just landed on my stall. It was melting, probably from the heat. I heard a voice call for it and it took off. It knocked over my cart.” He pats it gently. “So I had to go get more. I thought I would make it back in time, but...”

The flowers around Nice Cream Guy echoes his deep sigh and the fireflies disperse like the crackles after a firework.

“Mettaton and the entire Tem village is fighting the Royal Guard just up ahead. They will probably be sweaty.” The human unwraps their nice cream and puts it in their mouth. “Just saying.”

There’s a silent crack as Nice Cream Guy’s ears whip upright. “No kidding? They’ll sell like crazy.”

The human stops Nice Cream Guy for just a moment before he takes off running. They remove their humanity from their mouth. “You said you came from Hotland, right? First off, did you see a a yellow flower walk by you? I’m looking for one.”

“Nope, sorry.”

“Second, is there anything or anyone there that might go out of their way to do anything to me because I’m a human?”

After a couple of seconds of thinking the blue bunny furrows his brow. “No?”

“No one?” the human repeats. “You sure?”

“I don’t know, you’re kinda scaring me with this question.”

Why can’t he answer? It’s just a simple question. The human tightens their grip on the bunny’s arm and drops of melted nice cream run down his arm. “I’m just a bit tired of being jumped every step of the way," the human explains. "I can’t walk ten steps without something happening. Just tell me what I’m up against!”

“I-it hurts,” Nice Cream Guy whimpers. “Let go.”

The human drags him towards them. “Are you in my way?”

“N-no.”

“Then why aren’t you answering a simple yes or no question?”

“I just want to sell my nice cream.”

The human snaps their eyes on theirs. “Wait, is it magic?”

The bunny nods weakly.

With great effort the human commands their hand to let go of the blue arm. “Sorry. Just go.”

There’s a faint sniffle that’s picked up by the flowers around the cart as it’s wheeled with one arm back towards Mettaton.

The human sighs and throws the nice cream away. The fireflies flock towards it and the way ahead darkens.

Their stomach rumble, but they manage to quell it. Just barely though. It’s silent once again, hopefully it holds up. The human welcomes it, though they fear that it’s just for a moment.

Of all the days to wake up, it had to be the one where the human delegate was visiting. It had to be the day where everyone is on their toes about humans. Not a day earlier, not a day after. Fantastic.

“Hey, aren’t you a human?” asks a monster child with a shirt saying that humans are cool, but not as cool as Mettaton.

“Case in point,” the human laments with a tired sigh.

“My child here have always wanted to meet a human,” says its parent. “Could we have your autograph?”

“The human group is in Snowdin. If you hurry you can catch them,” the human replies without stopping. They ignore the begs from the two monsters, and turn the last corner.

On top of being poked at with every step the human is pretty sure that they’re farther from their goal now than they were when they set out for it. They’ve no idea where Flowey is, for a starter. Is he even in the Underground? Not a clue. Is he Asriel? Not a clue. Is he even alive? Not a goddamn clue.

Sans is crushed under a big boulder, so now his plan is shrouded in dust as well as mystery. Frisk is probably gonna try and reset when they find out. And that will further extend the memory problems this journey was supposed to fix.

“Stay determined,” the human reminds themselves. “Stay determined, it’s the only way to get through this. If Frisk could, then so can you.”

This plan has to work, they have to get through this! The monsters will never be able to survive on the Surface with all the memories they’ve plagued them with. They’re all flawed, they’ve all done horrible things. The human has killed them all once though, so who are they to judge?

Warm air breezes by them, and a red glow replaces the blue atmosphere of the Waterfall. The human dips their head carefully into a small waterfall to cool off before they finally reach Hotland. They embrace the uncomfortable warmth, but there’s still no Flowey in sight. Not a vine, not even a root. Just lava and jagged rocks as far as the eye can see.

The rope bridge makes no fuss as the human walks over it. They fill a cup of water for the road from the water cooler after the bridge, and take a sip immediately.

Up ahead is the Lab standing white and silent in contrast to the red and busy surrounding. The human shakes their head at it and instead head for the elevator to MTT Resort.

“Magical identification required,” informs the elevator with an emotionless voice.

The human curses with an emotionfull voice and throws the cup at the console.

“Magical identification failed. You do not have access, Onionsan,” informs the elevator again. The human stops just short of kicking the console. 

The Lab doors open with a mocking hiss. The human sees their annoyed face in the large monitor, and it isn’t helping them feel any better. The bathroom door has a dent in it. The human flexes their fingers on their broken arm and breathes through their teeth as it informs them that it’s still broken.

They exit the Lab on the other side, and their shoulders sink when they see the narrow and sharp way in front of them. Steam is shooting from the pipes they walk over, and some almost burn their feet. A series of conveyor belts have them flailing around with their one functional arm just to stay upright and not fall on their broken one.

“Fuku, look! Another human is going the stupid way. Let’s see how they react to the jump vents!” shouts a young voice from above.

The human stops and looks at the pad in front of them. Just one more step and they will be launched over a long drop into lava. Thing is, it was strong enough for Frisk, and they’ve no idea if it has enough strength to launch an adult human.

“Why is it stupid?” asks another monster from up above.

“They could just take the elevator? You know, like anyone sensible would do?”

“But it’s closed. They said so in school. Something about a human parade.”

“Explains why I didn’t know about it.”

“Hey!” the human finally addresses the young monsters on the rocky passage above them. ”Is there really no other way other than this one and the elevator?”

The purple monster kicks its skateboard up into its hand and sits down with their legs swinging over the edge. “Not from where you’re standing, human. You think you can ollie up here, perhaps? Otherwise I have no idea.”

“Standing?” asks the green fire monster. “I have an idea!” It stands up and waves to something high up. “Tsunder! This human likes you!”

Loud engine noises close in on the human, and they duck as a plane swoops in just above their head. It hovers in the air, just observing the human, before blushes form on its metallic cockpit.

“W-why did you call me, Fuku? It’s not like I w-want to see another human,” the plane whispers loudly while not meeting the human’s eyes.

“But they want to see you,” repeats Fuku with a smile on her sparkling face. “Look at them.”

“N-no!”

“They asked us to ask you to show them around Hotland.”

Tsunder glances at the human. “Is that true?”

The human looks at Fuku, who nods with a wink. “Yes,” they say carefully. “I’d love to?”

Tsunder’s engine rev up, and their hat flops down over their cockpit’s window. “No way! Why would I like you? You’re a human.”

The human again looks to Fuku who spreads her arms out repeatedly. “Um, you have an impressive wingspan?” Fuku makes a circle under her arm. “And nice turbines?”

The plane makes a roll over in the air and its hat falls next to the human. “Don’t touch it!” it squeals as the human bends over to pick it up. Slowly it glides down and nonchalantly bumps against the human with a wing.

“If you learned this in school I would almost consider attending,” the purple monster whispers into Fuku’s ear. Fuku hushes them with a harsh finger.

“So,” the plane hawks loudly, and almost seductively, almost, “you should go, human. I don’t care.”

The human can tell that it cares. Fuku motions for the human to turn around. Tsunder dives uncomfortably fast and stops the human in their step. “I could do it myself, but can you just remove this rock from my back?”

The human catches a glimpse of a broken stalagmite above them. The cut looks very fresh. They grab the rock, causing Tsunder’s blushes to turn as red as the lava below them. The human feels Tsunder’s engines against their leg.

“Hmph! H-human? Your leg is stuck in my engine.” Tsunder's voice can barely contain its excited giggling. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t,” the human informs as they jerk their leg back from the spinning turbine.

“Yes, you did!” The plane looks away, gracing the human with their winglet in the process. “Not that I care or anything.”

“Tsunder!” Fuku yells again. “The human needs a ride to MTT.”

Tsunder’s engine stops. “Y-you do?”

“Yeah, sure. Could you give me one?”

“No!” Tsunderplane shouts. It turns itself and waves to the human. “Get on then.”

“Didn’t you say no?”

“No. Hurry, I have cool places to be. Because I’m cool! Not like you. You’re a,” Tsunder sighs lovingly, “a human.”

Fuku nods to the human as they look up one last time for advice. The human puts their hand on Tsunder and climbs on its fuselage. Another pleased sigh is exhaled from Tsunder before it takes off without warning.

“T-thanks for the ride,” the human says with a forced smile as they land right outside MTT Resort. Their pale face struggles to hold in their sick. “Could I ask for less loops next time?”

“You didn’t like them?” Tsunder asks. “W-whatever,” it stutters out. “It’s not like I care.”

Drops of oil hit the ground as it takes away in a sulk. The human takes a moment to collect themselves from the wild ride they just went on.

“You alright there?” worries a sharply dressed monster at the door leading into MTT Resort. “I can’t let you in if you’re already intoxicated.”

“No, it’s not that,” the human assures. “It’s just how we humans look when we’re excited.”

The monster opens the door. “If you say so. Welcome to MTT Resort.”

The human looks around, but still no Flowey. They head straight for the elevator on the other side of the floor. To their enormous joy it opens.

A long ride later the button labeled ‘New Home’ flashes bright. The human steps out onto the gray that is the city’s skyline.

The door to Asgore’s house is askew, and the light inside is turned off. The human opens the door carefully and flicks on the light. “Hello?”

From the edge of their vision they see a door closing. Chara rushes towards it and throws it open. They can barely make out the color of the green sweater worn by the small figure in the dark. It turns around while wringing its sweater.

“I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to see me like this,” the figure pleads with a pathetic whimper.

Chara narrows their eyes. “Asriel?”


	22. One remains

"Go away, Chara! Just leave me alone," screams the figure with a shaky voice. It looks around for an escape, but the only way out is blocked.

Chara takes strain against the door frame as they’re surprised by their relieved laugh. After everything that has happened, finally something good has come off it all! Finally there’s an end in sight. "No, Asriel," they pat the wall next to them for the light switch, "you've no idea how much easier everything has become!" Chara's fingers find it, and they flick the light on. "You can't fathom the weight lifted from my-" Their face sinks like a rock attached to an anchor as they see what’s actually in front of them. “Asriel?”

Two thick vines are thrown in front of the muzzle made out of leafs and stems. "No! Please don't! I don't want you to see me like this!" The goat child’s form convulses as the vines and thorns shaping it are sucked into a small and sniveling flower. The sweater hangs in the air before slowly covering the crying flower. Flowey's cries is muffled by the soft sweater landing on him.

No! Why would he do that? Chara bends down and lifts the sweater off the small flower. Flowey shuffles backwards in a panic. “No! I didn’t mean to. Please don’t hurt me!”

Chara reaches out for him, but he swats the hand away and locks himself in the wardrobe behind him. Chara tugs at the handles, but it’s being held shut from the other side. “Asriel?” they ask with a careful knock.

“Go away,” answers the wardrobe after a long and silent while.

“I’m not mad about what you said before. You were right, I wasn’t the nicest person.”

“It’s your fault I’m this. Having you near me just makes everything worse. Go away!”

Chara tries the handle again, but to no avail. “Asriel, we’ll fix you. I promise.”

“I’m not Asriel. I don’t deserve it. Flowey just deserves to rot away in the Underground.” Sniffles escape the tiny gap between the wardrobe doors. “Alone, and forever. Flowey couldn’t kill, so he deserved to be killed. His rules, so he has to live by them. Go and live your life without me.”

“My life is only worth living with my best friend,” Chara reminds.

“Well, he’s gone. Only his remains remain, me.”

“Well, let’s make you Asriel again,” Chara proposes with a smile despite the closed doors blocking Flowey from seeing it. “Then we’ll sidestep the problem, right? Let’s get rid of Flowey, and get back Asriel. We’ll never speak of Flowey again, and then get back to living with mom and dad.”

“Twice now I’ve woken up like this, and that’s twice too many. I couldn’t handle one, and I’ve lived through two,” Flowey explains angrily and with fear.

“This time we’ll be together to figure something out. And third time’s the charm, as they say.”

Flowey throws open the doors, “Yeah, the third time I hopefully won’t wake up again!” and slams them closed again.

Another minute of silent passes in the room where the fallen child and their goat friend once lived together. “You sound like Frisk, Chara,” Flowey finally snarks. “You know that? Are you gonna hug me until I get better? Is that your plan?”

“Perhaps they rubbed off on me,” shrugs Chara. “In the same way they rubbed off on you. We owe a lot to them, don’t we? They saved both of us, and now we have the chance to repay them, and give them the best ending they deserve. It just happens to be our best ending as well.”

Chara shuffles up, and sits down with their back against the wardrobe. “It’s the least we can do. And isn’t this what our plan was about? For you and me to save the monsters? Now that they’re all saved we can start again. The only thing missing is Asriel,” Chara taps the wooden side with their knuckles, “the only thing missing is you.”

Chara looks around the room as they wait for an answer. Two beds, some strewn toys. Yup, two best friends lived here. Just like they had with their twin. The difference being that down here Chara wasn’t swept under the rug.

The wardrobe door pokes at their side and they move out of the way. “Could you,” says Flowey with his head lowered, “could you get us some pie from the living room?”

Chara nods. “Sure, I’ll get you some.”

“Chara?” Flowey interrupts Chara leaving the room. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK, Asriel.”

The door is closed silently.

As they walk down the hallway, Aofil can’t help but indulge themselves a bit. They let loose a smile now that they finally have a chance to do it. It feels good to have something going with you for once. How they’ll go about turning Flowey back to Asriel is gonna be a bit of a monumental task now that they can’t use Sans’ plan, but hey, magic is magic, so there outta be something they can do, right? They’ll cross that bridge once they get to it, for now they still have to focus on keeping Flowey convinced that they're Chara.

The gray living room is filled to the brim with different presentations about business propositions, city planning, and other conference items. The tour must’ve been the carrot for the human group, but first they had to get through this.

The table is decorated with different desserts and opened bottles of champagne. Cakes and snacks cover the purple cloth on the table. They’re human made, except for one. In the middle on an elevated serving plate sits a familiar smelling pie. Toriel’s pie baking must be some core memories to her if she still managed to make one.

Aofil leans over and grabs the small slice left on the platter with the spade next to it. They serve it on a disposable plate and catch their reflection in the platter’s polished metal. With a chuckle they let their fringe hang over their eyes and pull their cheeks menacingly. They look just like their twin, and they shower themselves in praise.

If they managed to convince the best friend of the one they portrayed then it had to be a good performance. Maybe they should work for Mettaton after all, make sure that their acting abilities doesn’t go to waste after this. They don’t want to do something akin to impersonating their dead twin in order to convince their transformed brother to go back to the people he toyed with for who knows how many years in an attempt to straighten out memory anomalies induced by manipulating what was considered something constant and above science and magic. Not again, that is. Maybe an adaptation of ‘I was born a human’ instead. Yeah, something like that.

Chara opens the door to Flowey slowly. “Asriel? I got the pie.”

No answer.

Chara walks up to the wardrobe. “Mom still got it, the pie smells delicious. She’ll make us more once we get to the Surface.”

As they put their hand on the knob the doors fly open with a violent crash. “You idiot!”

Aofil is thrown onto the ground. They scream in agony as their weight crushes their broken arm. Vines surround them and they’re lifted up as a tightly compressed package. The vines contract against their arm and again they scream from the pain.

Flowey slinks up to the face of his captive. “How stupid can you be? Chara wouldn’t ask me to become Asriel. I wouldn’t be a part of the decision! I never was!”

“Frisk, they-”

The vines again squeeze. “Yeah, exactly. You’re not Chara, not even close. If anything you’re Frisk, and Frisk couldn’t save me, they could only save Asriel. So why should I listen to you?” With a smug smile Flowey hovers the pie in front of the human’s face. “Now eat up.” With a vine he pries open the human’s mouth, and with another vine he breaks off a piece. “Open wide, my child. Eat up and show me the allergy that you don’t have,” he says condescendingly with Toriel’s voice. “Open wide!” his voice shifts back to his own, “and show me that you’re not Chara!”

Chara spits the piece out. “Listen to me, Asriel! You don’t want to do this.”

Flowey takes the remainder of the pie and dices it up before shoving it into the human’s mouth. This time he wraps a vine around the mouth and nose of the human. “You swallow, you breathe,” he threatens with fire in his eyes. With another vine he squeezes the human’s chest, causing them to cough. He relaxes the vine over the human’s mouth and they breathe in reflex, along with the pie in their mouth.

After letting the human catch their breath Flowey lifts up their head with a leaf. “Look at me. Open your eyes!”

Chara smirks under their fringe. “Fine.”

“Y-you,” Flowey stutters as he sees the grin forming on the human’s lips. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Chara chuckles to themselves, “Why can’t you learn, Asriel,” and throws their eyes open. “Don’t be in my way!”

“Your eyes,” Flowey whimpers as he loses control of his vines. “T-they’re-”

“Oh, they’re mine alright,” Aofil nods as they’re released from Flowey’s grasp. They grab him by his stem with their broken arm and lift him up. “But they’re not Chara’s.”

Flowey’s petals drops and his eyes dart around the face he thought he knew. “B-but, they’re red, because of your allergy, Chara. You’re allergic to magic. See, I remember our secret.”

Aofil rubs a petal between their fingers. It’s soft, frail, pathetic. It would be so easy just to.

Flowey pained cry doesn’t bother Aofil’s one bit. “Is he Asriel?” they ask.

The extended vines whistle past Aofil’s ears. They pay them no mind, “Or is he Flowey?” and pluck another petal.

A white petal graces their cheek, but they don’t care. They move their finger to another petal.

“Stop!” Flowey cries out, “I’m Asriel,” and morphs his face and voice to that of Asriel’s. “See? I was Asriel all along. No need to hurt me anymore.”

Aofil let’s go of the petal. “Oh, there you are, finally.”

Asriel nods with a scared smile on his face. “Yeah, here I am.”

“Say, now that you’re here. Why don’t I try and bring out your soul? It must be so boring for it being stuck inside someone who doesn’t know how to use it.”

Asriel’s muzzle quivers in fear.

“Yeah, you remember that, don’t you? Like a distant candle in the thick fog that is your memories. Can you feel it all coming back to you? Your mind overwhelmed by things that happened and didn’t happen at the same time. Which are real? Which are true? Are they all true, but in a different way?”

“Who are you?” Asriel asks with a scared snivel.

“I’m your best friend’s twin. Call me Aofil.”

No answer.

“Say it!”

“Aof-fil,” Asriel cries.

“Good! Now, Asriel,” Aofil smiles, “let’s get you out of this worthless form,” and with their other hand they start dragging Flowey apart.

“Please don’t kill me!” Asriel’s voice cries out as tears dot the wooden floor below them.

“Kill, or be killed,” Aofil reminds.

“W-wait! You said you had Chara’s allergy?”

Aofil nods. “Runs in the family.”

Flowey’s face returns and a sinister grin replaces Asriel’s muzzle. “Good.” With a punch to the gut he forces Aofil to drop him. “I would never do that to Chara,” he shrugs with his leafs facing upwards, “but you’re not them. So enjoy puking up your inside, you idiot!”

Vile and sick cover the floor and Flowey nimbly dodges it before walking slowly towards the door. “Wait!” Aofil yells in between heavings, but Flowey keeps going. Aofil takes strain against the wardrobe. Their stomach protest loudly, but they force it quiet. They can’t let Flowey escape, they have to move! With heavy legs they navigate the red haze covering their vision.

Flowey turns around and laughs at Aofil struggling to stand upright at the door. “Wow, you look horrible, and that’s only your clothes. Look at you!” Flowey grows back his lost petals without any effort. “Idiot on two legs, barely even. Do us all a favor and fall off the edge here while you’re at it.”

Flowey burrows and Aofil falls to their knees. “I’m sorry!” they cry out.

Their voice dies down, their plead lost in the empty gray around them. Just as Aofil tries to stand up Flowey pops out of the ground with a quizzical look next to Aofil, albeit outside arm's reach. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Aofil quells another wave of sick, “I said that I’m sorry. It’s our curse, I didn’t mean to.”

“You wanted to kill me,” Flowey transforms his face, “Just like Chara,” and switches it back to his. ”Give me one good reason why you did it.”

“I need to bring back Asriel.”

“You and everyone else,” Flowey whispers to himself. “And why should I trust anything you say? You just tried to trick me.” He flicks his petals with one of his vines. “And kill me!”

Aofil regains some control over their insides. “No one else dies, that was my only condition for doing this. I swear.”

“Aha,” Flowey nods with his tongue hanging outside, “then what do you call what you just did to me? Is it a human handshake of sorts? And besides,” Flowey’s face turns into a skull, “no one dies? heh, good job on that one,” Flowey mocks with Sans’ voice before cracking his face in half.

“You forced my allergy. You know how Chara would react to it, right?”

After some internal debating Flowey reluctantly nods. “Yeah, guess I do.”

“I react the same. When it comes to Sans, I never wanted to kill him,” Aofil sighs, “He just, attacked me. Probably to show you that I had the same curse, allergy, whatever, as Chara, to convince you,” and shrugs their shoulders. “If anything it worked, right?”

Flowey crosses his vines and extends his tongue again, “No,” but eventually gives up. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry for deceiving you, Flowey. I am, truly, but it was the only way we could think of convincing you to follow me back up to the Surface.”

Flowey doesn’t react, he’s lost in his thoughts. “I was overwhelmed with joy to see them again, you know? I thought that, if Chara could come back, so could I. I mean, they’re both impossible tasks, so maybe I had a chance after all if Chara managed.” Flowey lets a smile grow on his face. “Me, and my best friend, together again, back from the dead. You with your cheeks,” Flowey summons a pair of his own, “you were pretty convincing.”

Aofil taps their burning ones. “They’re the same as Chara’s, so I don’t blame you for being fooled.”

“But then,” Flowey continues with a sense of dread hanging in his voice, “then I remembered. Their plan, their grin, and their determination. I was only a means to an end, a tool. Once I stopped being useful, once I stood in their way.” Flowey turns to Aofil. “They had the same pair of eyes that you just had, the same hatred. Was it because of their allergy? Do you know?”

Aofil is taken back by the sincerity in Flowey’s question.

“I don’t, Flowey.” Aofil puts a hand on their chest. It’s burning hot. “Maybe Chara did? We’ll never know.” They nod towards the tar-like substance covering the floor inside the house. “As you can see, I can’t really control it.”

“You should probably clean that up,” Flowey suggest while backing away from it. “I cleaned you up when you were unconscious, so it’s your turn now.”

Aofil nods. “Fair enough.”

To their surprise Aofil finds Flowey sitting on the bed as they return to the kids room with a bucket and a mop from the kitchen. “By the way,” he asks while scratching his chin with a leaf, “does Toriel and Asgore know about you and Chara?”

Aofil shakes their head. “No, or at least I don’t think so. They might’ve suspected the reset before, the trial might have clued them in.”

“Trial?”

“Long story. Right now I don’t think they suspect anything. What with their memories in chaos.”

Flowey ducks underneath a flick of determination as Aofil’s arm figures out it’s supposed to hurt again. “Memories in chaos? Like what you tried, but failed, to scare me with?”

“Failed,” Aofil chuckles through teeth clenched in pain, “yeah, sure.”

“I was lowering your guard,” Flowey stretches out his vines, “and this mess is proof enough that it worked.”

“Whatever. So yeah, everyone’s memory is messed up. Something about it lingering on from previous resets. Frisk has them intact because it’s their reset. And mine are whole as well because-”

“I know,” Flowey interrupts, “I was there.”

“And,” Aofil continues while hunting the last spots of gunk on the floor, “because I was such a drastic shift in the timeline their memories from the previous ones didn’t apply, as in, they couldn’t be jumbled. I cured them by just being something completely different.”

Aofil wrings out the last drop into the bucket and catches Flowey’s furrowed expression. He sizes Aofil up, and slowly raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Or whatever, it’s what I was told,” Aofil shrugs with a sigh. “Really, it doesn’t matter exactly how it worked. It did, and now we need it to happen again.”

“With Asriel,” Flowey adds.

Aofil picks up the bucket carefully as not to spill and catch a glimpse of the contents again. “Exactly.”

Flowey smacks his lips. “And I’m not enough?” he asks Aofil's back.

A handful of drops splash over the edge of the bucket as Aofil stops in their step. “What?”

Flowey jumps down and drags himself in front of Aofil. “Why am I not enough to scare them back straight?”

“Didn’t you say to Frisk that you wanted to be forgotten? That it would be better for everyone? Them knowing about you would just replace their mixed thoughts with dread and utter devastation. You’re not Asriel, you said so yourself. So them not knowing is way better.” Aofil steps over Flowey. “Trust me on that one.”

The bucket flies out of Aofil’s hand as their ankles are grabbed by Flowey. Aofil manages to correct themselves in the air and lands on their shoulder instead of their arm. The bucket crashes against the hallway floor and its contents color the walls.

Flowey slithers up to Aofil’s face. “Why is my life worth less than that crybaby of a goat? Is it because I don’t have a soul?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do I have to get myself a soul for me to be worth anything in anyone’s eyes?”

“You’re not getting mine, and you know that.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t want yours. The last time I had a cursed one didn’t go so well. I’d imagine yours being pretty weak as well since I couldn’t get it out last time. No, I have a better idea,” Flowey proposes with a smile. “Why not get Frisk to give me theirs? They seem so eager to set everything right, so this should be a no brainer, just like they have. We might even share body and mind, how neat is that? A crybaby goat, and a child so bent on making everything better that they would just toss their life away. We will be the perfect little angel. Too bad Frisk has to kill themselves and become a martyr, but I’m sure Toriel and Asgore will be perfectly fine with another child dying for their cause and offspring.”

“But hey, at least I’m back,” Asriel’s voice and face cheers, “and isn’t that all that matters? Mom and dad will forget all about Frisk now that I’m here!” he gleefully smiles. ”It’s just me, screw everybody else! Especially Frisk, am I right?” Asriel giggles.

“No one else dies,” Aofil reminds sternly and with a vicious tone. “Be it Frisk, or anyone else.”

Flowey returns himself to himself. “But you want me to die so you can bring back Asriel? We can continue this conversation once you’ve tucked in your hypocrisy.”

Aofil grabs Flowey by the stem again. “Did I stutter?”

Flowey forms his face to that of Aofil. “Y-y-y-es,” he says with Aofil’s voice.

“Then let me say it again. No. One. Else. Dies!”

“Good!” Flowey pricks Aofil’s hand with a thorn and drops out of it back onto the bed as Aofil flinches. “So how do you plan on bringing him back without killing me? I’m what’s left of him, so please tell me your genius plan to make Asriel without the Asriel ingredients.”

Flowey’s got Aofil there. They stumble to think of anything, but nothing comes. “I, I don’t know.”

Flowey throws his vines in the air. “Well, that’s question one answered unsatisfactory! Question two then, do I get any say in the matter? What happens if I don’t want to bring him back? Will you respect my decision, or will you make it for me?”

“That’s a lot of question twos,” Aofil remarks.

“Well,” Flowey nods with a plastered smile, “excuse me for wondering if I’m allowed to decide about myself. That is not to say that I’m in good hands,” Flowey reassures to Aofil with a serious look, “after all, the one literally trying to rip me off should be the one with the final say about me. Don’t you agree?”

“Do you want to become Asriel?”

Flowey meets Aofil’s eyes. “If I say no, what are you gonna do about it?”

“Leave.”

Flowey’s smug smile fades and his eyes dance around Aofil’s face. “What do you mean, leave? Leave me be?”

“You, Toriel, Alphys, everyone. I’m gonna leave.” Aofil motions with their hand. “Just move away. I can’t be near them, even if I manage to bring back Asriel. One, because of my allergy, and two, because I’m tired of all this. I’m tired of magic, tired of resets, tired of being the one to fix everything even though I wasn’t a part of it.”

Flowey fails to hide his swelling curiosity, and he jumps closer to the edge of the bed. “Aren’t you friends with them?”

“I don’t know? I guess I am because I agreed to do this, but then again, they’ve thrown me under the bus more times than they’ve invited me on board. You were right about everyone of them, Flowey.”

“I, I was?”

Aofil runs their hand over their face. “I just want it all to be over.” It stops over their mouth. “I can’t stand seeing them reliving their memories, and I can’t stand reliving my own. I just need to get away from all this.”

Aofil feels their legs give in and they slump down on the bed. They’re tired, so tired. They didn’t want for any of this. They try, but their strength is missing. They can’t hold it back, their facade is crumbling. They can’t keep up this act any longer. “I don’t want to see them again!” they cry out.

Aofil collapses into their own arm, but it’s too weak to hold them up. Tears darken their clothes and the floor underneath them. “I want it to be over,” they force out amid their wails. “Magic killed my family, my twin, and it’s gonna be the death of me! I was happy not knowing about any of this!”

“Your family is dead? Chara’s family is dead?” Flowey asks as he also sinks down into the opposite bed. “I never really thought about them having a human family. We were theirs, so I guess I just kinda forgot. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for your loss?”

In the bed that once was Chara's sits Aofil, their twin.

In the bed that once was Asriel's sits Flowey, what's left of him.

“Thanks,” Aofil manages to muster after a while.

“Yeah,” Flowey nods awkwardly. “You’re welcome.”

Aofil feels the awkwardness themselves hanging over them. Damn, what are they doing? They have to keep it together, stay focused. They dry their eyes, and steady their breath.

“You alright?” Flowey asks out of courtesy.

Aofil exhales a heavy sigh, “Yeah, I think so,” and collects themselves.

“Good,” Flowey nods.

It’s quiet in the house, not a sound to be heard. Both are just sitting on the bed, thinking.

“You know,” Aofil finally says. They turn to Flowey with a small snivel, “when I said that it’s better not to know, I meant it.”

“How?”

“When I died,” Aofil starts before losing themselves to a disbelieving scoff. They eventually manage to get in under control, “I met my family, including Chara. Even the notion drives me crazy, but I saw them again, they told me how proud they were. But now? After all this? I don’t know if any of it was true, if it really happened. I think of it every second of the day. I can never not wonder if it was real or not. I’m constantly thinking about every smallest detail, trying to remember some detail that would indicate one way or another, but I never find one. What I would give to not know.”

“I, I think I understand,” Flowey says while rubbing his stem with one of his vines.

“And that’s why you can’t help them, Flowey, since they will have the same doubt. They will always wonder if there’s a chance to get Asriel back. They won’t see you as Flowey, they will see you as a broken Asriel. They’ll tear themselves apart looking for something to help you. Eventually they will literally tear themselves apart do help you, and that would go against why I came here. I need either Asriel, or no one, to help them. I can’t give them the pieces, they’ll die of grief trying to assemble it.”

After some silent thinking Flowey sighs. “Can I ask you a question? How many times do you think we’ve had this conversation?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know that there’s been resets, how many I’m not sure, but here I am, still being Flowey. Why should I assume that this one would be the one? Are we just saying the same thing we did before? What is different this time? You? Then why couldn’t I be Asriel the reset before? What prevented it?”

Aofil rubs their forehead with their tired hand. “Above Lab blew up.”

Flowey’s petals perk up. He leans in front of Aofil with a quizzical look. “The what blew up?”

“The Above Lab,” Aofil mutters, “the one Asgore built to celebrate humans and monsters working together.”

Flowey blinks into empty air. He then looks back at Aofil. “Why didn’t you tell me that, you piece of idiot?” he yells at the top of his lungs. Aofil recoils back from the volume. “I’ve never heard of Above Lab before! That’s what’s different! If I was made with just monster science, then perhaps if we add human science into the mix we can make me a soul. Alphys works there as well? If not, we’ll make her. She’s so easy to manipulate.”

Aofil is not really comfortable with the smile Flowey’s wearing. “Manipulate to work better?”

“Asgore is probably gonna try and have it be about your human science, but if you-”

“No.”

“Yes, if you,” Flowey repeats, “talk to her about how your soul is cursed and broken and all that she will dedicate all her time to figuring out how to make a new soul. Give her a good cry like you just did. Then you can just give it to me, and we’ll have Asriel back in no time. You’ll be best friends since you both cry just as much. No need to reveal who I am, to them I’ll just be Flowey, the flower, a nice monster friend you found here in the Underground.”

Aofil leans back from Flowey’s excited face all up in theirs. “You’re coming with me?” they risk the question.

Flowey sits back down. “Me? Of course I will! You’ll probably screw it up by opening your mouth, like you did with me.”

“So,” Aofil points to the door, “let’s go? And how do we keep you a secret?”

Flowey blows his lips. “You kidding? The Smiley Trashbag is dead, and only you and Frisk know who I am. I’ll live with you to make sure you aren’t getting any cold feet.” He wrings his vines. “Perhaps you could show me some of Chara’s stuff as well?”

“I don’t know.”

“Please?” Flowey begs.

“Maybe, I don’t know how I feel about that yet. We’ll see.”

Flowey returns a nod. “Thank you, really.”

A minute of silence passes before Flowey coughs it away. “So, how do you plan on bringing me up?”

“I saw some pots in the hallway?”

Flowey waits for the punchline, but nothing comes. “You’re serious?”

“How else am I gonna smuggle a flower up to the Surface?” Aofil retorts with a befuddled hand.

Flowey mumbles in annoyance to himself. “Fine,” he reluctantly accepts, “but I want the biggest one you can find.”

Aofil throws their hand up, “Sure, whatever,” and leaves to get a pot.

“Remember, biggest one you can find,” Flowey reminds loudly.

Aofil sighs through their lips at it all, but deep down they’re jumping for joy. Finally an end is in sight.


	23. Pot of soul

"You're not gonna get in the pot?" Aofil asks as Flowey takes lead down the stairs.

He scoffs loudly out of sight. "That's only for when we meet the others," he teases from the basement.

"So what," Aofil asks while waving the pot, "am I just gonna carry this around? It’s heavy, and I can only use one arm, you know?"

Flowey turns around and winks with his tongue out. Aofil lowers their brow and shakes their head in annoyance.

"You're the one wanting to bring Asriel back," Flowey remarks while giving Aofil a sarcastic smile, he gets none in return, "so you do the work for him. You still owe me from when you were unconscious."

Aofil has a hard time believing that. "Really, I’m the only one here wanting to get Asriel back?"

Flowey turns back around, and looks out over the gray cityscape. "Really."

"So why did you dress up as him then back there? You do that when you’re alone?"

Flowey stops in his steps and Aofil manages to catch up. "Because..." His eyes search for a horizon too far away for him to see. He catches something though, and his gaze falls on the ground in front of him, "This is it, this is where Chara..." and his breathing becomes short. He recoils from something Aofil can't see with a scared shout. "No, not here. This was a bad idea.”

"You alright?"

“Let me in the pot!" Flowey grabs Mettaton's face on Aofil's shirt and twists the robotic smile into a desperate frown mirroring Flowey's. "Just put me in the pot!"

Aofil lowers the pot and Flowey dives in recklessly. With one eye Aofil looks into the dark of the pot. At the bottom lies a shaking Flowey with his leafs wrapped around his body. "You need some dirt?"

"Shut up!" Flowey screams. "Walk! Let me know when we're at the Barrier."

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Aofil explains as they agree that the question might've been a bit on the nose. "I'm genuinely curios, I swear."

"Just go!"

"Fine, fine."

Aofil checks where their feet land, but they find nothing to indicate what spooked Flowey. The path is as gray as everything around them, nothing more, nothing less. “You wanna talk about it?” they ask again into the pot.

“No,” whimpers the pot silently, “and please don’t look at me while you’re smiling.” Flowey tries to muffle his scared breathing, but Aofil can hear it resonate clearly from the pot. Might be best leaving him alone for the time being, if anything he’s easier to move now. No need to fear him burrowing every time he’s out of sight. A Flowey in the hand, as they say.

Or something.

The pot shakes in Aofil’s hands as they enter the bright and colorful corridor. It seems a bit dimmer than usual though, like something is eating up the light inside it. Aofil looks up and their suspicion is confirmed as the roof looks very different from what they remember. It seems a bit looser, even. They bend down and pick up a rock.

Aofil nods to themselves as the roof starts swaying from the impact of the rock. The waves of the impact circle out onto a piece of cloth spanning the surface of the roof. Gone are the mural with all the monsters, replaced by a tarp made to look like the same tiles used for the pillars and wall. Had Aofil not known what was above it they’d been fooled, so they guess that it worked plenty for the human delegation.

“Here’s where they really showed themselves,” Flowey says, still huddled deep down in the pot. “Here’s where I knew I screwed up.”

“You didn’t help Sans?” Aofil asks the pot. A deep tone is produced by their breath from the opening. “If you knew they would kill you, why didn’t you help Sans kill them?”

“B-because,” Flowey stifles a snivel, “I care about them.”

“Still, after everything?”

“Yes,” Flowey admits after a short, but powerful, silence. “Do you?”

Like a wall, the question stops Aofil in their track. “I,” they start, but can’t find any words to continue. They just stand there, in the middle of the blazing orange corridor.

“I,” they try again after a while, “I don’t know. They are my twin, but I didn’t know them. I can’t really decide who to trust, the one I saw when I was dead, or the one that was alive. Did they do everything because of their curse?” Aofil meets Flowey’s eyes at the bottom of the pot. “You obviously liked them, they were your best friend.”

Flowey’s nod is small, so small that Aofil could barely see even if Flowey was out in the light. “My best friend, the one I cared for the most in all the world.”

“Frisk made you rethink that?” Aofil pries as carefully as they can. “Seeing everything from another angle?”

“Maybe.”

“Frisk have made me rethink some things as well,” Aofil sighs, “but not in a good way. Far from it, to be honest.”

Flowey doesn’t answer, instead he curls up a bit more.

“Actually, now that I think about it, the monsters to me is like Chara to you.”

Aofil gives Flowey some time to think in hope that they won’t have to explain it. “What?” he replies.

Aofil breathes in through their nose and exhales calmly through their mouth. ”Despite everything, we’re still dumb enough to care about them. Despite them manipulating us, lying to us, we still want to believe that there’s some good in them, the lingering thread of what we thought they were, and we can’t shake it off. We try and we try, but here we still are. Even though they’re the one that put us in this situation, we still care about them. We know that they’re bad for us, that we’ve suffered greatly because of them. Heck, we’ve even died because of them. The only logical thing is to put this all behind us, and never speak of it again. Cut the chord, so to speak. We have to let go, but we can’t.”

Aofil pauses to catch their breath before continuing. “There’s something missing though. It began with Asriel, and it will end with Asriel. Once he’s back you’ll get a chance to live a life without Chara, and I get to live a life without magic tainting my existence.”

Still no answer.

“And that’s why I think you came with me.” Aofil nods to themselves. “You want Chara gone, leave them behind. You want them to be the one forgotten. That might be a bit harsh for me to say, but you’re thinking it. This is your chance to live the life you wanted, but Chara can’t be a part of it.”

“Let’s say that I am thinking that. Am I a bad person for thinking that?” Flowey asks quietly. “They were my friend.”

“I’m not sure that I can answer that, Flowey. I don’t know who Chara was.” Aofil shrugs their shoulder. “None of us did, except you. I don’t even know them now.”

“Do you think they will think I’m a bad person?”

“Chara, or the monsters?”

Flowey nods.

“Ah, both,” Aofil realizes after a second. “To be honest, I think the only one that can answer that is you, Flowey. You’re the only one with the full story.”

Flowey hums to himself, but says nothing.

Again the surrounding color turns gray as Aofil reaches the end of the corridor. They spot another large piece of cloth hiding the path to the caskets. Are they still there though? Aofil runs their hand against the edge of the textured cloth. They find a small flap and make a hole they can fit through.

“Where are we going?” Flowey questions suspiciously. “This is the wrong way.”

“I need to apologize to some kids,” Aofil explains. “And I’m pretty sure you need to as well.”

Flowey pops out of the pot, his petals getting stuck at the lip before springing up. He looks down the stairs. “Can I wait up here?” He turns to Aofil, “I don’t think they would forgive me.”

“You never know.”

Flowey lowers his head in shame. “I kinda do. I still remember how they screamed at me when I absorbed them.”

“Oh,” Aofil puts him down. “I didn’t think about that. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Flowey rubs his vines uncomfortably. “Just hurry.”

The caskets are still where they were. Aofil walks up to the them, and sits down on their knees. “Sorry, for everything. None of you deserved this. I hope you have peace now.”

They sit quietly. There’s no answer, but nothing can be said. The calm is needed, for all the fallen humans present, alive, or dead.

“You might not agree on what I’m doing, to an extent I don’t either, but it’s something that must be done to prevent this from happening again. No one else has to sacrifice their soul. I’ll make sure you won’t be forgotten,” Aofil promises. “You shouldn’t have suffered because of my twin, because of my curse. I’ll tell the people above what happened before I go, you have my word.”

Aofil puts a hand on their chest, “On my cursed soul I promise you,” and bows their head deeply. “I pray you find peace wherever you are now.”

After some respectful silence Aofil stands up again. With a final nod they head up the stairs again. The pot stands where Aofil left it, and they swoop it up. “All six forgive you,” they lie to the pot.

The throne room is as luscious and full of life as possible. The pot is quiet, but it’s understandable. In the middle sits two thrones. Strange. Even stranger is that there’s a bit of white fur in both of them.

“I don’t think she was happy sitting here again,” Aofil thinks out loud. “This human delegation must’ve been more important than I thought, and I was thinking it was pretty important. Explains why her pie was there in Asgore’s house though. I wonder where they split up?” The pot is silent. Aofil understands. “I gotcha, let’s continue.”

A room later Aofil can’t help but feel that something is wrong. “You’ve been quiet for a while now, Flowey.” They angle the pot so that some of the sparse light hits the opening. “You sure you don’t need any dirt?”

Aofil walks up to a light shaft beaming down from the ceiling. “We just left Asgore’s garden, I can just pop back and get some.”

The inside of the pot lights up, and is empty. Aofil barely remembers to halt it before they smack themselves in the face with the opening. “Flowey?” they yell as they look around inside the pot. Is he hiding in there? No, and how would he even?

“Flowey!” Aofil yells again.

But no one came.

Where did he escape? Did he go back to the Underground? Aofil turns around. Or did he go towards the Surface? But which? Aofil can’t decide, so they just run.

Turning the corner towards the Barrier, they spot him. Flowey’s in the middle of the room, the broken Barrier is just ahead. “Flowey? There you are,” Aofil sighs in relief. “Can’t just run away like that, we made a promise.”

“Promise?” Flowey asks, his voice echoing through the empty room. It’s shaky, and scared. Suddenly his head cocks violently, and he turns around slowly. As he spots his long lost best friend he smiles, but it’s reserved. He doesn’t know what to think. Chara just killed Sans, and here Flowey is standing in their way again.

“Flowey?” Aofil asks carefully to the twitching flower. “How are you feeling?”

Asriel’s face replaces Flowey’s. “See, Chara. I did as I promised, I helped you break the Barrier!” He nods frantically towards the white corridor where the Barrier once stood. “It’s gone now, we can just go, together. Just the two of us left, we don’t need the others. They were weak, right? I’m strong, I’ll be useful to you on the Surface.”

“Flowey,” Aofil carefully address as they walk up to Flowey. He moves back, keeping the distance constant. “Who am I? What just happened?”

“Y-you’re Chara, my best friend,” Asriel’s scared voice and smile says. “You just killed that hollow skulled skeleton, and I helped you kill Asgore just now, it’s why he wasn’t there. I’m sorry if you wanted to kill him yourself, but I figured that you would be a bit tired after that fight with the blue eyed idiot.”

His face tries desperately to hold back a worried frown. “I don’t mean that like you’re weak or something. By the way, the Barrier is,” Asriel’s face sinks into itself. “The Barrier is...” He turns around. “Gone?” His body starts shaking. “But how? When did it?”

Aofil sprints forward and catches Flowey off guard and rips him out of the ground. “Look at me! I’m not Chara. Asgore is alive, no one was killed. This isn’t genocide, Flowey. You’re confusing a previous reset with this one! What’s my name?”

Flowey’s face returns. “What? You’re Chara,” His eyes narrow, “No, Chara is dead. You’re...Aofil?”

Aofil nods. “Yes, that’s me. Chara isn’t here, they can’t hurt you. It was just me impersonating them, remember?”

“Yes? Something about bringing back Asriel?” he nods. “It was something about that, right?”

Aofil carries the confused flower to the pot. ”Yes, we’re on our way to the Above Lab to get me a soul.”

Flowey curls up once back in the pot. “This is what’s happening to all the other monsters and humans up on the Surface, Flowey,” Aofil explains. “Their memories about people they care for thrash around in their head.”

Flowey nods weakly.

“I know, and that’s why we need to do this. It’s why we need Asriel back. It should be a big enough change, like I was.”

“For me too?” Flowey asks after a scared sob.

“I hope so.”

Even though it’s nearly impossible to figure out any form of shape from the blinding white light, Aofil still feels that it’s smaller than before. There’s no magic residue on the floor. That’s clue one. Clue two comes in the form of an even larger banner welcoming the humans to the Underground with an arrow pointing towards the room Aofil just left.

“You feeling a bit better?” Aofil asks, being a bit taken back by the sincerity in their question.

“This is where I was a god, right?”

“Still a bit confused?”

“Was it here?” Flowey asks again.

“Yeah, it was. You and Frisk, child against child.”

“I wasn’t a child,” Flowey snarks. He pops out of the pot with an eager smile, “I was a god! Oh, you can’t believe the power I had. I was so cool!”

“But you were hugged to death,” Aofil whispers.

Flowey leans up against Aofil. “Care to repeat that?”

“From what I heard you looked kinda,” Aofil mimics a long and complicated thought, “the child definition of cool? Long horns,” Aofil drags a finger across their cheek while leaning the pot on their raised knee, “dark tattoos, sharp teeth. You know,” they laugh, “the edgiest thing imaginable?”

Flowey’s gaze could pierce the Barrier if it was still standing. “You’re just jealous. You wouldn’t have the creativity to come up with something that cool. Not that you would ever get the chance to have that form. You must be so jealous not having horns and fur. Is that why you had feelings for Toriel?”

“Mhm, if you say so, Flowey,” Aofil acknowledges with the least amount of care they can spare. “I’ll have you know,” they make a sweeping motion over their torso, “I’m fine with the way I am.”

Flowey lifts an eyebrow. “Wow, your standards are so low I’m surprised I didn’t trip over them in the Underground!” He rolls his eyes and leans back in the pot. “Idiot.”

Aofil breathes out their relief very carefully. Seems like they managed to avert Flowey’s memories this time. They should hurry, the sooner they get home and get his mind on something else, the better.

Flowey puts a leaf over his head as the late afternoon sun hits him right in the eyes. Aofil stops at the edge and inhales the mountain air. It’s a bit cooler than before. They jingle the pot. “You feel any different?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a flower, so I would imagine seeing the sun for the first time.”

Flowey interrupts with a loud and sarcastic laugh. He crosses his leafs and extends his tongue at the sun. “So it’s a big fireball in the sky, whatever. I’m sure I did brighter magic when I fought Frisk.”

“Actually, it is not a fireball. Scientifically speaking it is a...” Aofil halts themselves. “Nevermind, you’ll appreciate it once you’re Asriel again.”

Flowey blows his lips. “Yeah, sure I will.”

Aofil takes another lungful of air before starting the descent. Once again they’re underneath the crowns obfuscating the dirt path leading down to their town. Only this time the town would freak out if they saw them return. The town is now cursed, just like Aofil. They tap the pot in thought. Flowey gives a perplexed look, but Aofil doesn’t pickup on it. Flowey picks up on Aofil’s furrowed brow though, but he decides not to say anything.

Aofil didn’t really think about it, but this might very well be their last descent down Mt. Ebott. Their last time walking underneath the green roof with just enough holes to create a mosaic of green light and shadows. They didn’t really think about it. They’re gonna miss it. After all that has happened, they’re gonna miss it.

“How long left?” Flowey laments with an impatient sulk. “Tell me it isn’t far.”

“Sunlight’s good for you,” Aofil reminds. “And it’s the first house coming up. The big red one.”

Flowey scratches his petals. “So, Chara lived here?”

Aofil nods. “Back before they fell.”

“It’s,” Flowey pauses for a second to think, “nice.”

The wooden gate opens silently. “Did Chara say anything about it?”

“No, not really. They didn’t really want to talk about the Surface.”

Aofil pats themselves for the key, but they don’t find it. “I had in my pocket when I left! Oh yeah,” Aofil realizes as their pants doesn’t have any pockets, “these are not my clothes.”

“You actually serious?” Flowey comments with eyebrows raised in surprise. “You are actually really and truly serious right now? I’ve heard of falling at the first hurdle, but we haven’t even gotten to the track!”

“We can get in through the back. The monster entrance, if you will.”

“You have an entrance just for monsters? In the back? That sounds racist, or even speciest.”

Aofil peeks around the corner just to be sure no one is sitting on their patio. “It’s through that window.”

“Definitely speciest,” Flowey remarks with a sigh of sarcastic disappointment.

After some troublesome stretching of Aofil’s clothes, and the subsequent laughter from Flowey, they’re finally home. Aofil moves to the table to set Flowey down, but is halted. The pot is dragged towards the basement, and forcing Aofil to follow. What is Flowey doing? How is he moving the pot? Magic, Aofil concludes.

Their steps kick up a bit of old dust on the creaky stairs leading down. Once they reach the cement floor the pull from the pot stops. It’s dark, Aofil didn’t manage to reach for the light switch at the top of the stairs.

“So,” Flowey hums, “could I ask to be someplace other than your creepy dungeon?” He turns around and Aofil’s question mark of a face looks back at him. “What? It is creepy, look at it!”

Aofil points to Flowey with a confused finger. “You dragged me here. I was about to set you down on the table, but you pulled me along down here.”

Flowey shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you stupid? How would I do that?”

“I dunno, magic?”

“True,” Flowey admits reluctantly, “but I don’t have it. The only one I know of is that big boned and lazy skeleton, and he was crushed under a rock.”

The pot seems lighter in Aofil hands, all of a sudden. Flowey looks down. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not-” Aofil manages to say before Flowey and the pot are flung across the room. It hits something in the dark with a loud smash. Aofil turns around to run up the stairs, but the light turns on without them managing to get up a single step.

“What is this?” Flowey shouts in fear. “No, get me out of here!”

A hatch slams shut right in front of Flowey’s face. He bangs on the glass, but it doesn’t budge. He throws vines, thorns, pellets, everything he can at it, but it’s closed tight. A rumble is heard, and Flowey’s head darts around trying to deduce where the sound is coming from.

A small sign above the hatch bleeds out a red light.

“Extraction commencing,” it informs.

The metallic rumble is drowned out by Flowey’s screams of agony. His body convulses inside the compartment as different colored lightning spark at him. He pounds the glass with his vines, but Aofil hears nothing. Flowey’s face is in pure dread and horror. He screams, but no one hears it.

Aofil rushes towards the ominous shaped machine, but they’re tripped by an old carpet falling over. A deep chuckle catches their ears as they rotate to land on their healthy arm. They scramble on their knees and look up the stairs. Their heart skips a beat.

Two hands are raised above a melon shaped skull. “kept me waiting, heh?”


	24. To bake a prince

"i wouldn't do that if i were you. unless i wanted to throw everything away for giggles," Sans informs loudly and with a strict tone while making his way down the creaky stairs. "the procedure has already started, now we only have to wait."

He drags out an old felt chair with some effort from a pile of metallic pipes and tools. The wooden legs squeak as they scrape against the hard concrete floor. Sans removes the cover from it and makes himself comfortable.

"What the hell are you doing?" Aofil shouts, "What is this machine? Can't you see it's hurting him?" and points an angry finger at the hatch. "This is torture, stop it now!"

Sans shrugs. "can't."

"You don't know, or you don't care? You know what, doesn't matter," Aofil walks around the machine. Flowey follows them with his eyes. Aofil notices a faint glimmer of hope behind the scared and confused tears streaming down Flowey's face. "I'm stopping this, don’t worry."

"you got first class tickets for your brain, aof?" Sans asks as he repositions himself for more comfort, “because it sure ain't in your head right now. the extractor has already locked onto whatever speck of asriel left inside flowey. pulling the plug would mean doing it for flowey as well, and asriel, of course."

Aofil's hand halts on the cable leading from the machine into a nearby wall socket. Is it worth risking that Sans is bluffing? Is it worth risking all that's happened? They made a promise though, no one else dies.

“can’t make an asriel without cracking a few floweys,” Sans reminds. “we’re past the point of no return. this was the plan all along, remember? then again, we can always ask frisk to reset. sure, it will worsen the memory episodes of everyone involved, including you, but we always have another chance, right? i am kinda curious what will happen, to be honest.”

Aofil lets go of the cable. No, not worth it.

The glimmer of hope disappears from Flowey’s eyes as Aofil comes back into his view. Betrayal replaces the hope, then confusion, and at last, anger. He lunges against the hatch, his face morphing into Aofil’s, screaming silently.

Aofil can hear the anger though, and their head lowers as they squat down in front of the hatch. “I’m sorry,” they say. Sans is surprised over the amount of sincerity they meant.

Flowey slams a vine against the glass, but it barely comes into contact. Aofil can see his strength fading, like his entire being is loosening up, separating from itself. He doesn’t look whole anymore, not like a single being. It’s like the machine is trying to separate the flower from the soul, trying to organize the magic and the science. Remove the flower, leave the soul. Flowey looks at his fading vine, and he cries out without anyone to hear it as another colored lightning twists his drained form violently.

Again he begs with his eyes, his only way of communicating. His vision is blurry, and darkness is creeping in from the outskirts of his field of view. He tries to open them again, but he has no control of them.

The cover from the chair is dropped over the hatch. “you don’t want to see what happens next, trust me,” Sans informs to Aofil while returning to his chair. “it’s not pretty. a tip, by the way, stop making promises,” he sits down and places his hands behind his head, “they always end in someone dying.”

Aofil sighs and rubs their eyes. “What is happening to him, exactly?”

“take a step back, i’m sure you’ll recognize what this machine is,” Sans explains with his eyes closed. “alphys must’ve worked on this one during the previous resets since it was pretty much done when i appropriated it. too bad she didn’t have the time to make a manual, but i’m sure i have it figured out. just had to test it until it worked,” he shrugs. “par of the course. needed to know it throughout before its main guest.”

Sans was right, Aofil does recognize the machine. It’s a smaller size than the one in the Lab, but the form is the same. A metallic bovine skull, with thick and vibrating pipes breathing slowly. From a distance the white cover looks like an oversized handkerchief.

Aofil throws an accusing finger at Sans. “If you forced anyone else into that machine, Sans, I swear.”

He pulls down his shirt, exposing some cracked ribs pulsating quietly with white magic. Like scars, but on bone. “before you ask, yes, it hurts.” He lifts his shirt back up carefully. “if i’m lucky then healing magic will solve it. probably will, now that i think about it.”

Sans nods to another chair with some dusty boxes stacked on it. “we’re gonna be here for a while.”

The deep hum of the machine is sporadically interrupted by Aofil clearing the way for the chair, and then dragging it out next to Sans. The boxes on top of it is filled with notes with different handwriting. Aofil sits down in the chair, not giving the dust they disturb any thought. They find formulas and equations surrounding schematics of different parts of the machine as they flick through the pages. There’s a check mark next to the parts along with the word ‘tested’ written hastily. All except one, the part named ‘soul storage’.

Sans peeks over Aofil’s arm, “not a problem,” and rummages around in his pocket and pulls out a box. “got the memories right here.”

Aofil takes the box and weighs it in their hand. “Asriel’s?”

Sans takes it back, “yup,” and puts it away back in his pocket.

“When did Asriel have time to make that one, by the way?”

Sans taps the box with his fingers. “it only contains memory of him being a small child. as in, way before chara. toriel and asgore had it made. why they would want to relive their son’s earliest day from his point of view, i’ve no idea. my most logical guess is that they would give it to him when they died.”

“And now we’re using it for his second birth.”

Sans touches his chest gently. “poetic, isn’t it?

”Sure,” Aofil brow furrows. ”How did you get it?”

“frisk gave it to me, didn’t say how.”

“Mhm, and how are they doing?”

“haven’t seen them since the lab incident. to be fair, haven’t really looked for them,” Sans nods at the machine, “been busy.”

“So,” Aofil decides to change the subject, “Flowey won’t remember who Chara is when he’s Asriel?”

Sans returns the box into his pocket. “not a clue. my thinking was that we use the memories to give his soul something to latch onto so that it can grow.” He pats his chest on the spot where his rib was cracked. “but again, i’ve been wrong before.”

“Seems like we’re just rolling the dice on whether or not this will work? What with you not knowing anything?”

“frisk can always reset,” Sans says after a fake yawn.

“You sure?”

“i might have some lingering memories of something similar to this.”

Aofil massages their forehead with a tired hand and pinches the top of their nose. They breath through their teeth, “So,” and lets their hand fall over down onto their chin, “it didn’t work before?”

Sans kicks his legs up on a box. “still haven’t found any clues, so i still have none.”

“by the way,” he asks after a silent minute, “when did you grow a soul for flowey?”

“Not in the mood for your colorful analogies, Sans,” Aofil answers tired and annoyed.

“heh, colorful.”

Aofil leers at Sans. “I’m serious.”

He offers his hand. “hi, serious.”

Aofil ignores it. “How long did you work on this? When was the last time you saw anyone?”

Sans returns his hand as support behind his head. “it’s been awhile, not gonna sugarcoat it.” He snaps his fingers. “speaking of that, where’s mine?”

Aofil needs to think for a bit. “Your coat?”

“is it still stuck underneath that rock?”

“It’s at Gerson’s.”

“why would he want it, it’s not really a turtleneck. even if it was, doesn’t he have one of his own?”

Aofil pays no mind to the joke. “I needed something to keep me warm through Snowdin. You didn’t seem to need it at the time, so I took it. Oh, and I added to your tab at Grillby’s.”

Sans and Aofil look at each other for a second before Sans narrows one eye. “you did it as me? did you rip your skin off or?”

“No, I just identified that it was yours by the spots on your jacket. More importantly though, how did you survive a boulder being dropped on you?”

“the box under the one with the notes,” Sans motions with his hand.

Aofil unpacks it with a perplexed twist to their face, “Vacuum bags?” and turns to Sans with a confused expression. “From my vacuum cleaner?”

“mix it with some crushed crystals from the Waterfall and you get a bag of pretty convincing dust. easy to hide too. it itches something fierce though.”

Aofil sits down again. “Huh,” they say involuntary.

“your turn, what happened after our,” Sans coughs into his fist, “show?”

“I’d rather you tell me, Sans,” Aofil asks as they push away the dust box with their foot, “if you really thought I was Chara?”

“don’t take this the wrong way, but i honestly couldn't care less who you really are.”

“And did you really try and attack me?”

“if anything frisk could've reset if you died.”

“That’s comforting,” Aofil replies with an angry scoff.

“always is, isn’t it?”

“You think we did it before? The fight, I mean.”

Sans points to the ground, ”this one we’re having now,” and then towards Mt. Ebott, “or the one before?”

“I was mostly thinking about the one where you tried to kill me with beam magic,” Aofil retorts with tired sarcasm. “You know, that one fight that broke my arm?”

“you should have that checked at.” Sans leans back. “like i said, no idea. the important thing is that we convinced flowey,” and throws a lazy finger towards the humming and whirring machine at the other end of the basement, “and judging by the way that flowey is in there i’d say we succeeded.”

Aofil sighs deeply. “Had I known the price.”

“a meal at grillby’s for me,” Sans counts on his finger, “clothes, haircut, jewelry, arm,” before leaving just his index finger, which he tilts towards Aofil, “and, judging by your mood, a broken promise. not the best idea to befriend someone you intend on killing later.”

“We had another idea in mind, one that didn’t involve him dying.”

Sans jumps out of the chair. “now that you mention it, should probably check on how that’s progressing.”

Disgusted, Aofil shakes their head. “Really?” they mutter.

With a carefree whistle Sans walks over to the threatening machine and lifts the cover up slightly. His whistling dies down and he quickly drops the cover. Despite it being constantly on Sans’ face, Aofil sees that whatever he saw, it wasn’t anything to smile at. “it’s going,” Sans pauses and breathes through his clenched teeth, “well. don’t ask for details, please, for both our sake.”

He shudders. “so, what was your other plan?”

“You know about Above Lab?”

Sans pulls out an identification card with Alphys’ face on it. “i know a thing or two about it. some stuff from this timeline, some stuff from others.”

“Flowey proposed that maybe we should try and get Alphys to continue her research. Convince her using my broken soul, and have her fabricate a new one that Flowey would steal.”

Sans leans on his knuckles in thought. His brow sinks lower, and he mutters to himself. After a while he shrugs and sits back up. “gotta admit, could work.”

“Yeah,” Aofil nods towards the machine, “and we wouldn’t have to deal with this mess.”

“a mistake on my part then. i can admit that.”

“And I’m sure you’re so soulbroken, right?”

Sans nods. “yup, almost as much as yours is.”

“Then I guess my curse is healed!” Aofil exclaims. “Because your face is the same from when you dropped that bottle of ketchup, almost breaking it.”

“good to hear that your curse is healed,” Sans agrees, “but tell me, why should i care about the reason everyone is miserable? why should i care about flowey at all?”

Aofil raises an eyebrow. “Because we’re killing someone right now?”

“i’m not gonna cry over flowey. no one will.” Sans looks at Aofil, who’s eyes settle on the machine. He shakes his head in disbelief. “you can’t be serious. you’re sad about flowey? killer plant flowey? he who tried to take over the world, and almost killing everyone in the process?”

Aofil’s eyes returns to Sans with a vicious look. “Aren’t you monster proof enough that people can change? Why is he worth less than Asriel?”

“do you even hear yourself right now?” Sans blinks and his pupils vanish. “this is the complete opposite side you took during your grand declaration you made in the true lab. are you even yourself right now? which cursed twin am i talking to now? doesn’t seem to be the one i talked to in true lab.”

“Didn’t you say before that you couldn’t care less about who I was?”

Sans scoffs. “got me there, but i wasn’t done with my sentence. as long as you don’t put me or my friends in danger, i couldn’t care less.” He removes one hand from behind his hand and puts it on the armrest. “flowey isn’t going anywhere now. you might be his best friend now, but if you so much as make a move towards that machine I will do everything in my power to twist that broken arm of yours.”

“Is he even alive anymore?”

Sans pupils return and he leans back again. “last time i checked, no.”

“And who am I, in your eyes?”

“for everyone’s sake, you are aofil.”

“And yours?”

“aren’t i a part of everyone?”

Aofil shakes their head and burrows it in their hands. “This is such a goddamn mess. Everything is.”

With a tired sigh Sans cocks his head towards Aofil. “listen, aof, nobody asked you to do this. for what it’s worth, thank you for everything you’ve done. it’s just that,” Sans rubs the back of his head, “well, we’re so close. from what i know, this is the closest we’ve been to actually bringing the kid back, to actually having a solution to all this. i’ve had more time to mull over and coming to terms with this than you.”

“You weren’t the one that had to convince him either, actually get to know him,” Aofil adds, still with their exhausted head in their hands.

“that too,” Sans agrees with a wift of his hand, “but try and see things from my point of view. i’ve known about resets, i’ve known that even if i kill the murderous child, they’re just gonna reset, and eventually i will run out of tricks up my jacket. it was an inevitability. so, i tried a different method, i don’t know if i can explain what i did, because i’m not really sure what i did. but it worked, the genocide stopped, and us monsters were freed.”

Sans finishes with a small chuckle and turns to Aofil’s confused expression. “And how does this relate to Flowey?” they ask.

Sans lifts a finger, but stops midway. “i knew i had a point in there somewhere.” He shrugs it off. “whatever, i went a bit too much bad sans on you, and i’m sorry. i’m so close to just leave resets, anomalies, and potential genocide behind me. i’m so close not to see my brother go mad.”

The deep and heavy breathing of the machine stops, and both of them turn their head towards it. A silent second passes, before a gleeful ding echoes throughout the basement.

Aofil glares at Sans,. “Could really do without the microwave noise, Sans. That’s actually disgusting.”

Sans nods. “gotta have to agree with you on that. it was the only one i had handy.” Aofil’s glare goes nowhere. “ok ok, i’m sorry. let’s see how it turned out.”

Sans stops in his steps. “man, i shouldn’t really say anything more.”

The machine is still moving even after being shut off. Sans stops a couple of steps in front of it and ponders for a while. He reaches into his pocket and tosses the memory box to Aofil. “you hold onto this, i’ll open the hatch.”

“Any reason?”

“i don’t know if this is gonna blow up or not when i open the hatch. since frisk also made the promise that no one else would die they will try and reset if any of us die here. if you die, then your memories will be scrambled the next time we try and do this. if you’re alive and well aware what’s about to happen, maybe touch souls with frisk or something, then perhaps your head will stay clear.”

Aofil waves the box. “I was mostly asking why you threw it instead of giving it to me.”

“oh,” Sans recoils, “well, at least you now know the contingency plan.”

He puts his hand on the hatch handle. It sizzles and he jerks his hand back. “should’ve guessed that,” he berates himself. “ok, when i open this, catch the soul. should be simple enough since it isn’t whole.” He turns to Aofil. “you got it?”

Aofil bends their fingers over the delta rune etched on the lid and grip the edge. ”Ready.”

Sans chuckles to himself while preparing for a second attempt at the hatch. “heh, soul survivor.”

Aofil sighs.

With a loud and firm countdown Sans throws open the hatch and writhes in pain from his hand. A blinding white light fills the entire basement. Aofil covers their eyes with their arm.

“catch it!” Sans yells while caressing his hand.

“I can’t see it, it’s too bright!”

“call out to him,” Sans yells again while blinking against the bright object. He fumbles for it, but knocks over a pile of junk over him.

“Sans?” Aofil shouts back.

“no, him! call out to him!”

Aofil opens their eyes as much as they can. Through their eyelids they see a small form hovering just outside the hatch. “Asriel!” they call out. The white shape flutters to life and looks around, trying to find where its name was called from.

Tears form in Aofil’s eyes, but they’re determined to see this through. Finally, Asriel is here. They call out his name again, this time louder. “Asriel!” they call him again, feeling their soul filled with joy and hope. “Asriel, I’ll save you!”

The light blinds Aofil again as it nears them. They hold out the box, the cradle for his soul. The shape stops just before it, and bursts in.

Sans finally manages to get his vision back. “wow, and here i thought the sun was bright!” He shakes his head, and a small can falls off and hits the floor, rolling in under the now dormant machine. “tell me you got it, aof.”

He sees Aofil grasping the box with a shaking hand. “is asriel resisting?” Sans asks. “hm, we might have to put something heavy on the lid, just to be sure.”

He gives Aofil’s back a encouraging pat. “the worst is over, aof. good job.” He laughs in relief, feeling not an ounce of weight on his shoulder. “thank you, for everything.”

He notices that Aofil is holding the box with their broken arm. He picks it out of it without any resistance, “you alright, aof? asriel was too bright for you?” and gives it a bounce in his hand. “well too bad, his fur is gonna be white, and his smile is gonna be brighter. So,” he gives it another bounce, “wait, wasn’t he resisting just a moment ago?”

Aofil tries to speak, but they can only form sharp gasps. Sans pockets the memory box and swoops around Aofil. “aof, are you hurt?”

His eyes locks on Aofil’s other hand that’s covering their chest. He pries it off, just as a white aura is fading from Aofil’s chest. He turns Aofil’s hand in his, seeing a tuft of white fur growing from their palm. He meet’s Aofil’s eyes. “He missed,” they force out before clutching their chest again, straining in discomfort as their nails extrude outward, burrowing into their flesh.

“oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Thanks to the fantastic BlackRazorBill for including One falls in their enormous collage of AUs.](http://blackrazorbill.tumblr.com/post/159119432387/undertale-crisis-on-infinite-aus-this-is-far)


	25. One plus one

"here, give me your arm.”

Sans helps a struggling Aofil to their chair. They sink into it, still clutching their chest and straining to breathe. Sans puts his arm on their shoulder. “aof, look at me."

They don’t answer, they’re in too much pain.

“aofil, look at me,” Sans tries again.

With great effort Aofil manages to lift their head up. "It burns, it's like I’m being pushed out from inside. What’s happening?"

Their black and long nails push against the skin on their head. It’s barely holding together. "Something's pushing against my skull!" Aofil shouts in panic, clutching their teeth against the pain. "Sans!"

Sans grabs the increasingly fur covered arm. "i’m here. move your hand," he says before doing it himself. Inquisitively he runs his hand over Aofil's head and parts their hair. Underneath it he feels two growths pulsating violently, and as he leans in to look closer the quivering skin starts glowing white. A pair of sharp and slim horns shoot out from the growths and Sans is forced to dodge them. He manages, but just barely. As he recoils back from the horns he stares at them in disbelief. “how?”

Aofil reaches up and their eyes widen in horror as their new fingers grab something above their head. “What?” they exclaim and swing their head around to see. The fabric on the back of the chair is ripped wide open and stuffing starts pouring out. Aofil stares at the hole torn open and again puts their hand over their head. “I did that?” Not only do they feel the rough bonelike and angled back spurts emanating from their head, they feel it through a layer of hair, but not on their head. They put their hand in front of their face again.

Long black nails have replaced their human ones, and their entire hand is covered in glistening white fur. Their arm still shows skin, but the snowy hair is slowly enveloping it. They form a fist with their hand, and open it slowly. It feels strange, alien to them. It’s a part of them, but it isn’t them. It doesn’t feel the same, and it hurts. It’s not theirs, why is it like this?

They look at Sans, pleading for an answer, “What’s happening to me?” but suddenly their vision fades from them. Frantically they wave their pelted hand in front of them. “I can’t see!”

Sans meets their eyes, and after Aofil grunts in pain again, he sees that they’ve changed as well. Aofil blinks and tries to adjusts themselves their new vision. Everything’s blurry for them, they can barely see anything. They close their eyes and feel the skin around their eyes stretch. After it stops they open them again and their vision finally manages to find focus.

Sans catches a glimpse of them under Aofil’s fringe, and he instinctively takes a step back as he sees the angled and dark eyes looking back at him. They turn soft after a second, and again Aofil begs for help. “Sans?” they ask before biting themselves on their lips. Two fangs have grown from their upper jaw, and is now resting uncomfortably on their lips.

“i, i don’t know what to do,” he stutters out, “but we’ll figure this out, i promise.”

They both look at each other in silence.

“It hurts!” Aofil cries. “It all hurts!” they cry again, with another voice. It’s deeper, more gravely. “Make it stop!”

Pained growls rumble inside Aofil chest, and a shock is sent out throughout their entire body. They roar in agony as they feel their entire body tense up from it. They grab their chest. “Out!” they roar while focusing all their strength.

A pink shines fills the room as they draw out their soul.

Sans walks up slowly, struggling to believe his eyes. “impossible,” is the only word he can say.

Caressed between two completely fur covered hands is a red soul, with shards of white filling in the cracks present throughout it. It’s pulsating quietly, and the shadows cast by the long fingers and nails around it dance with each beat. Aofil tilts it towards Sans. “He missed,” they say again, just now realizing the deep and feral tone present in their voice.

Sans nods. “he missed.”

Aofil massages their throat, but the overwhelmingly strange feeling of fur and their new form forces them to stop. They return their eyes to the new soul that is theirs. They remove one hand and tries to come to terms with it before extending a careful finger towards the white of their soul. They touch it.

Another voice screams in their head, and they clutch it with both their hands. "Quiet! Stop crying!” they scream. Their soul cowers back into their chest as they wry from the scream. “Shut up!”

“aof, what’s happening?”

“No!” Asriel shouts as he sees the one that couldn’t stop Chara coming after them. “Get away!”

He stands up and knocks the chair against him. It tumbles towards Sans and he sidesteps it in the last moment. The chair smashes into the pile of pipes and parts, and Aofil snaps their head towards the sound.

Asriel remembers the sound, the crashing sound from when he fought Frisk. The bombs he threw against them.

“No!” he shouts to scare away the memory. “I’m not Flowey!”.

Aofil grabs their head, “Out!” and tries to shake away the memory, causing their long ears to flop against their burning cheeks.

“aof, calm down!” Sans yells. “focus, you’re fusing with asriel!”

“No, I’m not him,” Aofil looks at their hands. “I’m not them!”

“aof,” Sans finally manages to catch their attention. He nods carefully and waves his hands carefully. “sit down, use my chair.”

“Where’s Chara?”

“aof, don’t think. just sit down in the chair. you too, asriel.”

They both nod in agreement, and sit down. Their horns get caught at the top of the back of the chair and they bite their lips with their fangs. They dry it off with their hand, leaving a couple of white strands in the wound. They recoil back in panic. “Blood!”

The pain comes surging back. The faces, the screams. Chara’s angry screaming inside their head as they finally managed to take control. The small child that lay still among the flowers. Their cracked soul hovering above their lifeless form.

No, that doesn’t make sense. How could they be attacked, and attack at the same time? “It’s impossible!” they shout as they look around. “I need to find Chara!”

“chara’s dead.”

Asriel’s eyes sink. “No.”

Aofil shakes their head again, desperate to get it back under their own control. “Yes, they’re dead!” they scream to Asriel inside them.

“we’re on the surface, your name is aofil, and asriel is fusing with you. sit down again,” Sans explains sternly while pushing Aofil down in the chair again.

“Where’s mom and dad?” Aofil asks. “I mean Toriel and Asgore!” They cough as something pounds inside their head. “I mean, mom!” They put one hand up against their forehead, “No, Toriel!”

“mom is not here, asriel. neither is asgore, aofil.”

A quiet creak catches Aofil’s ear. They look up the stairs. “Frisk?”

The child doesn’t answer.

Aofil and Asriel stand up. “Frisk?”

Still no answer.

With a small gesture of Sans’ hand Frisk is pushed back and the door is closed. “aofil, asriel, sit down,” he advises again carefully.

Both Aofil and Asriel ignore him, and with unsteady legs, they walk up the stairs.

“you need to stay here, you can’t be seen like this. that goes for the both of you,” Sans tries desperately to convince, feeling the despair that was lifted from him crawling back up on him. “we need to figure this out.”

Aofil rattles the handle, but Sans holds it close. Asriel releases it and tenses their hand. A orange glow flickers to life and a crackling ball of fire forms within their grasp. They throw it against the lock, and it explodes. Sans grunts in pain, and the door swings open. The horns scrape against the top of the door frame as Aofil and Asriel walk out together into the sunfilled hallway.

Their new eyes stings, and both feel confused, and relieved by the warmth of the sun. They turn the corner and find Frisk sitting on the sofa with their head in their hands. The child squeal in fear as they spot the amalgamate walking up to them.

“No, it’s me, Asriel, Aofil,” they stumble as their head starts spinning. “Asri- Aofi-” they slur. They take strain against the wall with their hand, scraping the wood again with their claws. “Save us,” they beg before collapsing heavily on the floor. Their vision again darkens, and they fail to muster enough strength to stand up.

A breeze ruffles their fur, it feels very uncomfortable. Sans squats down into their reduced sight. “got me pretty good there. it hurts a bit,” he coughs out while putting his hand into his pocket. “listen, asriel, you’re not supposed to be in there.” He pulls out the memory box. “and aofil, you’re not supposed to be in here,” he places the box on the floor, “but this is only thing i can think up right now.” He grabs the lid. “good luck in there, both of you.”

A heart monitor beeps rhythmically. Asriel squirms in his mother’s arm, and a gentle hand brushes his ear. “Aren’t they beautiful, dear?”

Asgore leans over the edge of the hospital bed. His beaming smile outshines the sun gushing in from a nearby window. He brushes away the hair covering his wife’s face, and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Our royal heir. I’m so proud of you two.”

“Well, they are half your fault, so.”

“Citizen of the Underground,” Asgore proudly announces, “join me in this celebration.”

Asriel looks over to the other package of cloth and towels containing their twin. They reach out with their paw towards them.

“I know, they are so cute,” his mother laughs lovingly, “I was thinking,” and bumps Asriel carefully with her nose. Asriel retracts his arm. No, this isn’t his mom, it’s a human, “that this one would be Aofil. And this one, Chara.”

In a blink the hospital room vanishes, and a grand castle balcony replaces it. The distant sound of a large crowd talking with excited voices catches Aofil’s ears. They’re loud, Aofil doesn’t like it. With a whimper they squirm in their mother’s arm.

“There’s nothing to worry about, my child,” Toriel calms with a with a careful finger. “Isn’t he beautiful, dear?”

Their dad leans over Toriel’s shoulder. “Yes, they both are.” He gives Toriel a peck on the cheek. “Can’t believe you grew two of them,” he smiles out.

“Finally, he is now heir,” Toriel chuckles before returning the peck.

Aofil’s dad walks up to the podium and stretches out his arms with pride. “Look at their cheeks, I love them,” he whispers into the microphone.

No, wait, Toriel isn’t their mom, and why are they in the Underground? This isn’t right!

Asriel wakes up in the middle of the night to Chara tugging at his cover. He sits up. “What is it?” he asks while rubbing his eyes.

Chara beckons Asriel to lean in closer. They put up a hand up to Asriel’s ear. “Aofil, have you heard of the legend of Mt. Ebott?”

Asriel recoils back. “Legend?”

Chara nods. “I heard the pastor talk about it a couple of days ago. There’s an Underground filled with monsters, and magic! We could find a cure!”

Asriel looks around, this isn’t his room. It’s not even his house. And why is Chara here? He looks down, why is he here?

Chara runs back to their bed as faint footsteps close in from the other side of the door. Asriel sees some shadows move past the space underneath between the door frame. After a silent whisper from the other side of the door the shadows walk away, and Chara sneaks back to Asriel’s bed. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Asgore nods with a smile and closes his book. “Tomorrow we’ll have our picnic, my son.”

Aofil lets go of the long and purple mantle they’ve wrapped their fingers around. Asgore laughs warmly, and bends down to pick them up. “You’re excited, I can tell.”

Aofil looks around. They’re in Asgore’s throne room. But how? And why can Asgore carry them? They look down. Why are they a child?

“Scared, Asriel?” Asgore asks and tilts Aofil’s head up. He smiles again, and gives Aofil a hairy kiss on their forehead.

“How are the first and third best men of my life doing?” Toriel teases with a chuckle as she makes her way around Asgore.

Asgore leans his muzzle towards her and they rub it together. “Now I’m curios who number two is,” he mumbles playfully.

Toriel flicks Asgore’s horn. “A queen has her secrets.”

He raises an eyebrow in return. “Does she now?”

“Perhaps,” she winks to Aofil, “like what I’m making for our picnic tomorrow.”

Aofil’s scared expression shifts between the two boss monsters. What are they talking about?

“Scared, Asriel?” Toriel asks with the softest eyes she can muster. “Don’t worry, my child. Who knows, maybe you’ll make a new friend?”

“Chara!”

They turn around. “What is it, Aofil? We have to hurry!”

Asriel looks around confused. Where is he? He catches a glimpse of the mountain looming over him and Chara, and takes a step back in fear.

Chara grabs his hand and drags him along towards the intimidating mountain. With every step Asriel feels it crashing over him more and more. “Let’s go,” Chara whispers loudly. “They are both still sleeping, but we have to hurry before they wake up.”

Asriel jerks their hand back. “Chara?” he asks his human twin.

“What’s happening?” Aofil asks their monster parents.

“This is,” Asriel continues.

“Not real!” Aofil ends.

The world turns dark. There’s no wind, no sound. No ground, no ceiling. Just the void, as far as they can see.

Aofil turns around, and faces themselves. They look down at their striped sweater, and at their white paws. They look up, and see a small goat child looking at their paws. They see that they were also looking at their hands.

“Aofil?” Asriel asks to himself with Aofil’s human mouth.

“Asriel?” Aofil asks themselves with Asriel’s monster mouth.

“Why are you me?” Asriel wonders with fear while rubbing Aofil’s arm. Aofil’s body shudders as the feeling of skin doesn’t sit well with Asriel.

Aofil can’t really fathom that they need to look up to meet their own eyes. There also this long and white muzzle covering their view. “I don’t-” They grab Asriel’s throat and accidentally poke themselves with a claw. Talking with a more childish voice than they’re used to, it doesn’t really do them any favors right now. They cough, but it doesn’t really help. “I don’t know, Asriel.”

“It feels really weird hearing me say my name-” Aofil’s voice starts.

“But not talking to me,” Asriel’s voice ends.

Aofil touches their nose. “OK, good. We switched-”

And continues holding their claw on Asriel’s muzzle. “Back to our own bodies.” They remove it, “Wait,” and look down. “Dammit!” they bleat out.

Asriel is visibly shaken hearing his voice swear, and bleat. “Sorry, didn’t mean to,” Aofil apologizes. They run their palms over Asriel’s cheeks and blow through their own lips. “OK, first things first, let’s see if we can stay as ourselves.”

Aofil nods as themselves, “What I’m thinking is,” before lowering their upraised claw and sighing deeply. “This is really getting on my nerves.”

“You said you had an idea, Aofil?” Asriel asks carefully. “If not, then I think I might have one.”

“No, forget it,” Aofil shakes Asriel’s head, and an ear flops on his muzzle, blocking Aofil’s sight. They sigh again. “Shoot, let’s hear your idea instead.”

Asriel removes his ear from his muzzle. “Close your eyes, and think about yourself. Think about who you are, and who I am. Try to remember that we are two, and then try and separate us.”

Aofil closes Asriel’s eyes, and Asriel closes Aofil’s eyes. Trying to make two out of one, they focus hard on what’s human, and what’s monster. Silent, they stand opposite each other, trying to figure out who they really are. They are fused in soul, but not in mind. That’s where they are separate, that’s where they are two. They both think about how they feel, what makes them an individual. They breath in as one, and breath out as two.

Aofil opens their own eyes, not monster eyes, not amalgamate eyes. They feel it, it’s their own eyes. “I think it worked?”

“I can’t see,” Asriel stutters out in light fear while waving in front of him aimlessly.

Aofil stiffens a laugh. “You have my hair, that’s why. Sorry, that might’ve been me. Give me a second.”

Aofil imagines their hair on their head, and Asriel’s on his head. They open their eyes again, and nod in comfort as Asriel twirls his tuft with a smile.

“So,” Aofil starts while squeezing their hands. It feels good only feeling skin on skin, “how did you figure that trick out?”

Asriel rubs his own arm this time. “I’ve had experience with this sorta thing before.”

“You and Chara?”

He nods with a quivering mouth. “Yes,” he interrupts himself with a loud sniffle, “and when,” and another, “and when I absorbed all the souls,” before looking at Aofil, and breaking down into tears. “And now I’m a parasite in your soul! It’s not fair to you! Why do I keep doing this?”

Aofil hastily rushes up to Asriel. “No, no, no, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

Asriel pushes away Aofil and turns around. “I should just disappear, give you your mind and soul back.”

Aofil spins him back. “Asriel, listen to me,” but Asriel lets his eyes wander. “Asriel,” Aofil grabs his chin and turns it back, “we’re gonna figure this out, you and me. We’re both together now, but we’ll figure out how we’ll be two again. I can’t have my form be what it is right now, and neither can you. We’re in this together, literally.”

“You seem so,” Asriel dries his muzzle with the arm of his sweater, “sure about this. The last something like this happened to me, I died, and Chara too.”

“This is different, I think.” Aofil helps dry off Asriel’s eyes. “Besides, I’ve had experience with this sort of thing as well, you know. And you helped me, remember?”

Asriel nods weakly before failing to keep in another loud sob.

“Hey now, if I can come back from being dead, then so can you.” Aofil stands up, “Now,” and offers Asriel a friendly and helpful hand, “let’s see if we can find anything.”

“Which way?”

Aofil surveys the infinite dark around them. “I don’t know.”

Asriel looks around as well, but he doesn’t see anything either. He still takes Aofil’s hand, and squeezes it in his.

“So, which way?”

“You want me to choose?” Asriel asks with a confused look.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Asriel points into the void. “This way?”

Aofil nods. “Sure.”

They both walk together, but separate, into the unknown.

Despite feeling that time doesn’t happen, Aofil can still feel Asriel getting heavier and heavier. They finally stop and squat down again. “You want to sit on my shoulders?”

Asriel nods, and climbs up on Aofil’s back, swinging his legs over their shoulders.

“By the way,” Aofil asks as they tilt their head up to meet Asriel, “what did you see?”

Asriel leans over and meets Aofil. “See?”

“Yeah, I think I saw when Toriel and Asgore made the announcement to the Underground that you were born. There was also something about a picnic, I think?”

Asriel ponders for a second. “I saw a human, and I felt that she was my mother.”

“Really?” Aofil thinks. “Now that I think about it, I felt the same about Toriel and Asgore being my parents.”

“I remember her being it,” Asriel continues, “but the human couldn’t be my mom, because Toriel is.” He lifts a finger, and scratches his head, “I also saw Chara, but they were a baby. My twin.”

Aofil stops walking. “Wait, you saw Chara being a baby?”

“I was also a baby, I think. What if I were you?”

“And I was you?”

Asriel shrugs. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Did you see something else?”

“I saw Chara planning on going up Mt. Ebott with you.”

After a moment of furrowed thinking Aofil resumes their walking. “Strange.”

Asriel cocks his head, and his ear flops down on Aofil’s face. Aofil nods it away. “Strange?” he asks.

“Because I don’t remember it.”

“Strange,” echoes another voice from all around, “if you don’t remember,” before converging behind Aofil and Asriel, “then why am I here?”

Aofl and Asriel turn around to meet the voice.

A crooked smile emerges from the shadows underneath a low hanging fringe.

“Greetings.”


	26. Dinner for three

Aofil smacks their lips, "Nope," and turns back around from the grinning child.

The grin fades from Chara, and they raise a confused eyebrow. They throw out their hands. "Wait, what? What do you mean, 'nope'?"

Aofil shoots a look over their shoulder. "Are you gonna help us find a way out?" Chara hesitates an answer, and Aofil nods. "Then nope."

"Chara?" Asriel asks with an unsteady voice. "Why are you here?"

"Asriel-" Chara starts, before being angrily hushed by Aofil.

"Asriel," Aofil starts instead with a snap in front of his muzzle. He recoils from the sudden sound, and looks down to Aofil. "We're in our head, not in our soul. The memory box, remember?" Aofil throws a thumb over their shoulder. "It's just a memory. Let's focus on-"

"Asriel!" Chara shouts, rumbling the void with their roar. "We still have a plan to do! Come on!"

Aofil steadies their grip on Asriel's ankles. "Look forward, ignore them.”

“We made a promise, Asriel!”

“The monsters are already free,” Aofil answers, not bothering to turn their head. “Asriel owes nothing to you. Go away.”

Aofil feels Asriel wanting to turn around. They squeeze his legs, but it doesn’t help. “C-Chara?” he whimpers out.

“Eyes forward, Asriel!” Aofil demands.

“Maybe they can help us? I mean, we don’t know where we are going,” Asriel tries to convince while starting to worm himself out of Aofil's grip.

“Whatever good has Chara done to you?" they reply. "It’s because of them that we are here to begin with, it’s because of them that you died!”

“Because I wasn’t strong enough,” Asriel whispers.

“That’s Flowey talking, Asriel, not you. He’s dead now, forget about him.”

“They are the same!” Chara spits back from just behind Aofil. “Asriel, with me we’ll become strong! We’ll free the monsters, together.”

“The Barrier is broken, the monsters have returned to the Surface!” Aofil retorts viciously, still not giving Chara their eyes. They feel Asriel shaking from the stress, and they fear he might try and weasel himself out of their grip even more. They can’t let that happen.

They reach up and grab his muzzle. “You turn around, and Chara will take over. Flowey will come back, and all of this will be for nothing!”

“Aofil, it hurts,” Asriel whimpers, but Aofil keeps their hand steady.

“Our promise isn’t done, Asriel, not even close. The Barrier might be broken, but that was only step one. Monsters can never be free so long as humans still pester this world!”

“They're just something our memory has conjured up, Asriel!" Aofil tries again, feeling Asriel’s head turn despite their grip on it.

A loud cough stops Aofil in their step. Their hands loosen from Asriel's ankle and head, and he almost falls over.

As he scrambles back up using Aofil’s hair he notices a faint shine on it. Light! A scared bleat shoots out from him, and again he almost falls off Aofil’s shoulders. “A house?” He blinks at it. “Wait, this is your house, Aofil, right? Yours and-”

“Put me down!”

A jolly whistle ignores Chara’s protests and flailing. It opens the creaking gate and proceeds up the stairs to the front door. The man turns around, being careful not to hit Chara on the door frame. “You two coming?” he shouts to the two perplexed figures standing just outside the wooden gate.

“Aofil?” Asriel asks the frozen statue holding him up. “What’s happening? What are we doing?”

“It’s just a memory, they’re not real,” Aofil explains to themselves. “If they are real, then Chara is as well. Can’t risk that.”

“You’re not a vegetarian, right, Asriel?” wonders a woman from a window. “Aofil still isn’t sure, even though Toriel ate lamb right in front of them.”

“To be fair, she was pretty liberal with the wine.” The man chuckles out as he halts with one foot already inside the house, still with Chara mumbling angrily in his arm. “I don’t think Asriel would like a salad though, since he would be eating his previous self then.” He tilts his head around. “Isn’t that even worse?” he shouts to Asriel.

Asriel tries to catch Aofil’s attention, “Aofil? Should I answer him?” but fails.

A loud and theatrical sigh escapes an upstairs window. “Souls and memories are connected, Aofil,” their brother reminds with a snark. “And I’m pretty damn sure Frisk is doing stuff with your soul, like they did before.” He snaps a finger towards Chara. “Though I’m not sure if that brat is from your memory, Asriel’s memory, or Frisk’s soul. Heck, maybe they are from Asriel’s or your's soul?”

Asriel’s eyes widen in fear. “Wait, what if Chara is controlling us while we’re in here?” He takes Aofil’s head in his hands and shakes it “We have to wake up now! If Chara is controlling our body...”

“I would reduce this house into firewood!” Chara cackles. “Show you what real determination looks like!”

“Hm,” Aofil’s dad ponders, “you’re leaning towards being from Asriel’s soul.” He smiles and ruffles Chara’s hair, much to their dismay, “You’re still my child though.”

“No! I’m not!” Chara roars. “I’ll never forgive you for cursing me!”

“And that’s from Aofil’s memory and or soul,” Aofil’s mom adds.

“Yuck!” the brother remarks loudly. “I don’t want an amalgamate in my house.”

“It was mine before it was yours!” Chara snaps back at him, their fringe swaying, exposing their murderous eyes and angry scowl.

“Haha,” the brother snaps another finger with a cheeky wink, “got you to admit.”

“Shut up!”

The self satisfied laughter and furious huffing stops.

Asriel slowly removes his hands from his ears. “Aofil, you OK?” he asks carefully.

Asriel is almost thrown off as Aofil takes sudden step forwards. “Are you from my soul, or are you from my memory?” they shout to the house.

“Um,” their dad starts, “I don’t know. I think we only know what you know, but as your brother said, they’re both connected.”

Aofil massages their forehead. "Were you real back before?"

Their dad breathes through his teeth. "Again, we only know what you know, so."

“Isn’t it better if we try and sort this out over dinner?” Aofil’s mom proposes. “You’re invited as well, Asriel. You’re family.”

“In the sense that he’s Chara’s adopted brother, or that he and Aofil are the same?” Aofil’s brother ponders while failing to hold back a smile. "Anyway, guess I have to teach you how to lockpick, Asriel!"

Aofil’s mom shoots the brother a furrowed glare. “Guess we now know who’s doing the dishes afterwards.” Her eyes soften as she moves them to Aofil and Asriel. “You two come whenever you feel like it.”

Aofil’s dad readjusts his grip on Chara as they try to wiggle their way out of it. “This is still about them, and not you, Chara. You can help set the table meanwhile if you’re bored.”

The door is closed, and Chara’s loud protests dies off. Aofil stands in place though, not knowing what to think, or what to do.

“You have a nice family, Aofil,” Asriel says after a silent minute.

“Is it really them, or are they just my memory?”

“Can’t it be both?”

“Well, yeah, but the entire reason that we are in here to begin with is memories. The reason everyone is hurting. It’s because of memories that I had to almost die, again.” Aofil throws their hands against the house. “I mean, look at this. A house in the middle of literal nowhere, with my dead family inside inviting me to eat with them. It’s just...it has to be a memory! That’s why I’m hesitant, because memories have done nothing good for us.”

“But,” Asriel taps Aofil on the head, “it’s also because of them that I’m here, right?”

Aofil shrugs. “I suppose? Still though, I already have one family dinner that I’m debating whether or not it was real. I don’t know if I want another on my mind.”

“Don’t worry,” Asriel smiles warmly, “this time I’ll be here to share the burden with you.”

“Asriel.”

He rubs his arm, “It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done for me. Besides,” and grabs it in embarrassment. “I kinda want to meet Chara’s parents. They didn’t really talk much about them, and now that I have the chance. I’m also a bit hungry.”

Aofil looks at their house, their home. The house that cursed them, and the house that nourished them. Shadows walk back and forth behind the lit window, shadows they recognize.

“Also,” Asriel continues, “you deserve to sit down for a while, Aofil. I’m not gonna be intrusive, if you don’t want me to follow, then I’ll wait for you here.”

Aofil shakes their head. “No, I need you with me, to help me get through this. We're in this together.”

Asriel catches a smell in his muzzle. “Wow, that smells really good.”

Aofil takes a sniff, “Yeah,” and makes their way towards the inviting house, “it really does.”

“Shoes off, Aofil. And could I ask you to just brush off your feet, Asriel?” asks a warm and motherly voice from the kitchen. Aofil's mother leans in from the kitchen. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Asriel,” she smiles. It melts into a worried frown as Aofil’s mom notices Asriel rubbing his muzzle. “Oh no, dear. Does it hurt?”

Asriel nods weakly while trying to hold in a small sob. Aofil’s mom dries her hands on a towel and beckons for Asriel to meet her halfway. She opens the freezer and puts some ice in the towel. She ties a knot to hold it together and places it gently on Asriel’s muzzle. His muzzle wrinkles. “Sorry if it smells a bit of garlic,” another warm smile apologizes. She nods to Aofil. “And speaking of apologizing.”

“Mom.”

“It wasn’t nice of you, however necessary you might’ve deemed it. I think an apology is in order.”

Aofil agrees, they went a bit rough on the kid. “Sorry, Asriel. I didn’t think clearly.”

Asriel nods. “It’s OK, you kept me from looking at Chara.”

“Speaking of your twin, Aofil, they should be in the dining room. Why don’t you and Asriel join them? I feel like you both have some things to talk about with Chara. Dinner will be ready in a bit.”

Aofil looks up the stairs. “What about sis and bro?” they ask the upper floor.

Their mom puts a soft hand on their shoulder, it’s heavy. “Aofil, they will not be joining us.”

Aofil spins around in a flash. “What?” They search their mother’s face for any clue that she’s lying, but they don’t find anything. It’s cold as stone. “Didn’t you say we were invited to a family dinner.”

“Not your family,” informs a voice from upstairs. Aofil’s brother’s head pokes out while nodding towards the goat, “his.”

“You know you can’t come down here,” Aofil’s mother reminds him, her voice filled with remorse about having to turn away a child of hers. “Remember, they need to stay focused if they’re to get out of here.”

“Which is why I’m telling Aofil why, so that they don’t have to guess,” the brother retorts. “Listen, Aof, I’m gonna help our sister with her homework up here, you and Asriel get your heads and souls sorted out, and we’ll come down and say goodbye. Sounds good?”

“We’ll be back down to say goodbye to you, Aofil,” their sister assures, peeking out from under her brother’s legs.

“But,” Aofil shakes their head in anger, “if this is all about Asriel, then why aren’t we in New Home? Why are we on the Surface, and not in the Underground?” they protest angrily. “This doesn’t make sense!”

A hard tap on their own skull has them grunting.

“It’s your head, Aof, and therefore you set the scene," their brother explains with a soft motion of his hand. "Makes perfect sense, for us being in your jumbled head, that is.”

Aofil’s mother waves the brother and sister away with a hand struggling to hide its grief. “Children, upstairs,” her conflicted smile asks again, still with the same warmth as before, “these two need their time to think and work things out between them.”

The siblings nod, and wave goodbye to Aofil. They wave back with a tired hand, and smile.

Aofil’s mother wipes away a tear in her eye. “Good luck, you two.”

Aofil and Asriel nod, and Asriel accepts Aofil’s outstretched hand for the second time.

“She doesn’t know how to make snails, so why even bother?” Chara mumbles to themselves as Aofil and Asriel sit down on the opposite side of the table. They twists their lips. “What do you want?”

“Are you real, or a memory?” Aofil starts. “Is Frisk doing stuff with our combined soul?”

Chara shrugs and blows their lips. “Like I would tell you.”

“Your tone is a bit different than the last time we talked.”

“I think it’s my fault they’re like this,” Asriel admits. “I think it’s my memory of them.”

Chara rolls their eyes. “Always the crybaby. What if I’m real, what are you gonna do about it? What if I’m in control of your combined body right now?”

Aofil raises an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Chara counters with one of their own, “Yes,” and rolls their shoulder. “It’s really stiff though, I might have to take it slow to begin with.”

Aofil hardens their gaze. “So how come you can sit here and talk with us?”

Chara waves their fingers, “Magic,” before throwing them against Aofil sarcastically, “that’s how.”

Aofil furrows their brow. “Prove it.”

A knowing smile grows on Chara’s lips. “Hold your hand up, both of you.”

Aofil looks at Asriel, and then back at Chara.

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted proof.”

With a defeated sigh Aofil raises their hand, and Asriel follows shortly after.

“Three, two, one,” Chara counts down.

Aofil and Asriel both grunt loudly in pain as Chara reaches zero. They both look at their hands that’s shaking in pain.

Chara lowers their hand with a chuckle. “Three guesses who you just got hit in his smiling and stupid skull. Your fingers should feel rough as well since they're now covered.”

Asriel looks horrified at his hand. “In w-what?”

Chara rubs their finger and thumb together and blows on them. “Dust.”

Aofil takes strain with their other arm on the table, and lunges themselves across it. They grab Chara’s collar, and drags them back across on the tablecloth. Plates and glasses fall down and crash against the hardwood floor.

“And here I thought you would’ve appreciated me setting the table for you,” Chara smiles smugly. “Look, now the plates look like your soul.”

Aofil wrings them closer. “How do we get out of here?”

Asriel tucks at Aofil’s shirt. “Aofil?” he asks with a somber sob. Aofil ignores it, they ain’t letting Chara go.

“Is this how you treat your long lost twin?” Chara blinks with a pair of puppy eyes summoned to annoy Aofil. “Didn't you have a change of mind when you preached for me in the True Lab?”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned is that I only know one thing about you, and that is that you made your choice, and died because of it.” Aofil pauses to catch their breath. “It gives you no right to linger on. Especially not like the parasite you are right now.”

“Why are you talking to me?” Chara turns their head to Asriel, “Wasn’t all this about you, Asriel?” but shoots a glance back at Aofil. “Why can he linger on? Isn’t he also a parasite?”

Asriel’s head sinks into his paws.

Chara smiles. “See, he even admits it. I’m a part of him just as much as he’s a part of you. So whatever thing you and Asriel are gonna talk about, I’m gonna be here.”

“Give us back our body,” Aofil snarls viciously. ”Now!”

“You and Asriel fused into something more powerful than what he and I did, and the first thing you did was attacking a door,” Chara knocks Aofil’s hand away with relative ease, “and then faint, as you always do. Your soul couldn’t handle the amount of determination, like it never could.” Black ooze starts pouring out of Chara's grinning mouth and piercing eyes. “Good thing Frisk was there to be the angel they always are, right? Keep you two weaklings alive while you struggled to adapt to your new soul.”

The room grows darker around Chara, creaking menacingly as their shadow absorb the light around it. “A soul stronger than the legend could ever predict, a soul that can lay waste to everything if it wanted to. It just needs someone to control it, to make it their own.”

Chara grasps their chest, and pulls out their soul. A red soul, with its cracks filled with pieces of a white soul. “Good thing I had a vacant place for it. The determination pouring out of it is infinite. It just needs someone that doesn’t stand in its way.”

A large hand leans in from the darkness, and with a flick of its finger the soul flies out of Chara’s grasp, and into the burning fireplace. It pops like a small balloon, and the shadows enveloping the room gives way to the warm crackling of the colorful fire left behind by the soul.

“Again, still not about you, Chara,” Aofil’s dad reminds, and puts Chara back in their chair. “And look at this mess you made!”

Chara stares at the fireplace with their jaw on the floor. They reach out for it, but their hand is swatted down. “How? But?” they mumble. Aofil and Asriel are just as perplexed, if not more.

“Third one is here now,” Aofil’s dad announces. “Time to sort things out so that you can get out of here, and start thinking about how to separate.”

Chara blinks at him. “But, I was here first? I was here before Aofil and Asriel.”

“I feel like I’m repeating myself, but that’s because I am. This is still not about you, Chara,” Aofil's dad informs through a tired sigh. He places a pot down on the table that he was carrying under his arm, and removes his hand from the yellow flower in it.

The plant spits and coughs dramatically before crossing its leafs. “Idiot human with his idiot spade,” it mumbles, “didn’t even get me a good pot.”

Flowey’s petals perk up as he and Asriel lock eyes with each other. “What?” they say in unison.

Flowey runs his eyes up and down Asriel, “Is this a joke?” and swirls his head to Aofil. “You’re kidding me? Why is the crybaby here?”

Aofil can’t produce an answer.

Asriel can barely form words. “But, I’m here? Why is he?” he slurs out.

A clean whistle echoes through the room, silencing the table. “Tea’s done,” Aofil's mom informs from the kitchen. She peeks her head into the dining room, “Who wants some?” but is met by silence from the four heads trying desperately to deduce what just happened, and what’s currently happening.

“I think all of them,” Aofil’s dad answers in their place, “even though they can’t say it right now.”

With a confused frown Aofil’s mom peeks over her husband’s head. “Why is there determination on the table?”


	27. More worth than the other

"Do you want some tea as well, Flowey?"

No answer, but Aofil's mom pours him some anyway. Once the table is once again set with a fresh cloth, and with steaming cups of tea in front of the fallen children and monsters, Aofil’s dad stretches his arms wide, and slams his palms together. The ensuing shock causes the table to flinch simultaneously, almost knocking over the cups.

“Good luck, to all of you,” he nods, and leaves the room with his wife. "We're heading upstairs."

The table looks at the cups placed before them. They didn’t notice them before, and they stare at them like they were conjured out of thin air.

Flowey is the first to be brave enough to taste the tea. He folds one of his leafs, and carefully lifts up the cup to his mouth. He takes a sip, and smack his lips at the taste. His eyes widen. “Wait, this is Golden Flower tea, how the heck did they get a hold of this?”

Chara is the second to sample. They twists their lips at the taste. “Not as good as Asgore’s.”

Flowey’s petals sink, and he slowly turns around. When he meets Chara’s eyes he freezes, “No,” and throws himself out of the pot. He wraps himself around Aofil, hiding behind their shoulder. “Don’t let them kill me, please.”

Chara scoffs. “You’re crawling back to Aofil? Didn’t they leave you to die in that machine?”

Aofil feels Flowey’s grip loosen on their shoulders. They reach a hand up to him, but he swats it away with a vine. It’s wet, wet from tears.

“Why are you hiding behind them?” Chara continues. “And here I thought you were above being a crybaby, Flowey.” They blows their lips. “Big kid you turned out to be.”

“Chara,” Asriel intercepts with a careful hand.

“Come off it, Asriel. He’s a lesser version of you. Why do you care? Look at him, whimpering and sobbing because he knows he’s weak, he knows that he became useless the second he lost his ability to reset. He has no love, no feelings, no nothing. Just a literal shell, holding inside the lingering essence of you. Didn’t even have the decency to give your soul rest, Asriel. A parasite, nothing more, and he deserves nothing more than to be treated as one. Riding along in the vain hope that he could finally take over and be whole again. He’s a mistake, and he’s spent his entire life trying not to be, and what has he to show for it? Nothing.”

“He remind you of someone? Takes one to know one,” Aofil snaps back at Chara. “Also, didn’t you just call Asriel a parasite as well?”

“Big talk coming from the one not giving a slightest care about Asriel," Chara retorts, "just wanting to bring him back so that you can wipe your hands of the dust you caused.”

“I didn’t kill them!”

“You had every chance to just walk away from this, Aofil!” Chara accuses with a stern finger against their twin. “You didn’t have to befriend them, you didn’t have to stay.” Their expression turns sour. Bitter anger and contempt stares at Aofil through eyes burning with disgust. “And you didn’t have to kill them. You don’t care about them, you just care about them looking up to you. Them praising you is what drives you, your selfishness caused them to die. It’s because of you that Frisk was forced to reset, you’re the sole reason they have to suffer. I was nice to you before because I thought you would realize that you just stumbled into their life, and that you would be humble enough to let them go, but I guess I gave you more respect than you gave the.” Chara throws out their arms. “And because of that, here we are!”

Asriel looks at Aofil, who’s clenching their teeth, then back at Chara.

“Not to mention,” Chara starts again after catching some air, “that you could’ve just left. The heads of your supposed family and friends are jumbled because of you, but you still chose to be with them. Couldn’t just cut the cord.”

A chair creaks next to Aofil. “Mom?” Asriel cries out in confusion.

Toriel ignores him, and instead puts her hand on Aofil’s. Her other strokes their chin warmly. “My child.”

“Mom? What are you doing?” Asriel cries out desperately. “I’m here! I’m back! Talk to me!” He tugs at Toriel’s dress. She removes her hand from Aofil’s, and shoves Asriel away.

“Ngaah!” Undyne roars with glee before patting Aofil on the back. “I knew you could do it, Aofil!”

Tears stream down Asriel’s fuzzy cheeks. “Mom!”

“Don’t bother, Asriel,” Chara informs coldly, “it’s not like Aofil wants to share. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here. You’re just a tool to them. Aofil didn’t do all of this just to be nice, they did it because they wanted to look good. That’s why they left you to waste away in the machine, Flowey, by the way. If they truly wanted to help, they would’ve saved you from it. But no, the plan was too important, their image was too important to risk getting you out of there. Why are you still back there, by the way, Flowey?”

Asriel tries to meet Aofil’s eyes. “Why?” Aofil looks away, but Asriel chases after. “Why? Why would you do this to me? Wasn’t me dying twice enough?”

Aofil cocks their head at the small goat. The warm fur of Toriel’s hand fades away, along with Undyne’s hearty laughter.

“Asriel, why do you think I took control over your and Aofil’s body?” Chara asks with their arms crossed.

“What do you mean?” Asriel answers perplexed.

“Why do you think I had to make that decision?”

“B-because...” Asriel looks at his hurt hand.

“Who do you think I hit? I’ll give you a clue, it’s the one that tried to drag out your and Aofil’s soul, not knowing anything about it. Sans was about to kill the both of you before I stepped in.”

“Bullshit!” Aofil roars. “What about that theater you just did with holding our soul in your hand, drooling determination on it.”

Chara pinches the nose of their bridge. “Haven’t you learned a damn thing, Aofil? You of all people should know what happens with our curse when we’re attacked by magic! Only difference is that I could maintain it, and you can not.”

“Chara? You saved us?” Asriel flounders, his eyes moving back and forth between Chara and Aofil. “Is it true?”

“When have I honestly given you a reason for you to believe that I’m lying, Asriel? Remember, you agreed to our plan, it was something we wanted to do together.”

“You don’t see how Flowey is cowering behind me, Asriel?" Aofil points out. "That’s because of Chara, that’s because of them wanting to kill him because he stood in their way.”

“Well excuse me for being siphoned off, Aofil. I’ll make sure not to have a curse next time I wake from being dead.” Chara puts a hand on their chest. “Really, it was my fault for being taken advantaged off by the little angel that couldn’t do any harm. Oh wait, that’s this timeline,” they smack their forehead, “I forgot about the other timelines where they killed everything in their way because they got addicted to determination.”

“You’re lying.”

“Refresh my memory, Aofil, didn’t you say roughly the same thing to Sans and Frisk down in the True Lab? Forced Frisk’s eyes open just to see the red of our soul?”

“People change, Chara,” Aofil spits back. “Like, for example, you. You were once the hope of the Underground, destined to be the royal heir. Then, you made some wrong choices, and now you’re dead. You had a literal change of heart, thrice now. Asriel, Frisk, and now me and Asriel, again,” Aofil counts down on their upraised fingers, "but, despite everything, it is still just you, Chara. The one soul, the one variable that’s always present during all of this misery.”

“Don’t talk to them that way!” Asriel yells, startling both Aofil and Chara. “Who are you to talk to them that way? From what I understand, all you’ve done, Aofil, is taking advantage of my family! You came back down to get me not because you wanted to save me, but because you wanted to look good in us monsters eyes.”

“Asriel,” Aofil manages to say after recuperating from the shock, “Chara killed you once, and almost tried to kill you again.”

“At least Chara tried to do something good for us monsters! They were loved, and they wanted to give something back, even if it cost them their life. You just had to walk away, but you couldn’t!” Asriel rounds the table. “I can, though.”

Chara’s face softens, despite them trying desperately not to let it show. Asriel scoots out a chair next to them, and sits down next to his best friend. He turns to Chara. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s really you.” Chara throws themselves into his fuzzy embrace. “I’ve missed you too, Asriel!”

The two friends share a moment together, separated by death, they are now together once again, and they’re never leaving the other’s side again.

“What are you doing, Asriel?!” Aofil bursts out in utter confusion. “Don’t you remember anything from after the Barrier broke? You’re throwing yourself into the reason you died, the reason you became Flowey. Chara’s not a good person, you said so yourself.”

Asriel’s brow furrows. “I did?”

Aofil stumbles on their words for a second before regaining composure. “Are you serious? When you came back from being Flowey, after the Barrier broke? You talked to Frisk. You realized that Chara was the reason you felt like you did, and then,” Aofil lowers their voice, “you told Frisk to go, because you were about to turn back.”

Like a flash of lightning, it all becomes clear. Aofil tilts their head over their shoulder, towards the sobbing and whimpering flower wrapped around their shoulder. “You’re the real one, Flowey. It’s your soul that fused with me.” They snap their head back across the table. “You’re the Asriel that didn’t meet Frisk, you haven’t learned what Flowey learned. You’re just a memory!”

Asriel reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a bundle of yellow flowers. “Here, Chara.” He hands them over to his best friend. “I am ready. We will free the monsters.”

Aofil lunges for the flowers, but Chara nimbly dodges under the table with Asriel’s hand in theirs. Aofil fights off the table cloth wrapped around them and places Flowey back into the pot. “Flowey,”  
they try to hide their fear, but they hear it in their own voice, “listen to me.”

“Everything they said is true, about you, and me. We’ve done nothing but harm, they at least tried to do good.”

Aofil grabs Flowey by the stem. “Flowey! They’re gonna go through their plan again!”

“Chara!” Asriel voice echoes through the house. “Wake up!”

“I don’t like this plan anymore,” Flowey finishes, clutching his teeth, but failing to hold another loud sob. “We’ll to it together, right?”

“You’re not him anymore, Flowey!”

A bellowing and fearful roar shakes the entire house, and heavy footsteps soon trample on the upper floor.

“Flowey, you might not have a full soul,” Aofil tries desperately to grasp at any straw they can think of, “but you’ve experienced more than Asriel, you’ve learned more than him. You’ve shaken off the shackles Chara had over you, you know who they really are now!”

“I’m weak.”

Two pained shrieks, one low, and one high, pierces Aofil’s ears. “No.”

Rapid footsteps charge down the stairs, but are cut down viscerally. A bright red light rounds the corner. Four souls beat in panic as they hover inside a cage of bloodied claws.

“Six souls,” a growl threatens, “just need two more.”

A white and sharp muzzle curls its lips, exposing a set of even sharper teeth, forming a pleased smile.

The free hand tenses, and an orange and unstable fireball forms slowly in it. Aofil grabs the pot and throws themselves around the corner with it. Pieces of burning wood follows just behind them, along with a deafening bang. They force themselves to ignore their ringing ears and rush towards the hallway.

“When that human man found me, I waved him off,” Flowey starts as Aofil slams the door behind them. “I blew raspberries at him, but I let him pick me up. Why? Why am I so weak?”

“You’re not weak, Flowey!”

The front door is blast wide open, with the fusion between the fallen and the royal child of the Underground walking slowly out of the embers. It scans the horizon, looking for the other fallen human, with the body of thehope of the Underground in its arms. It howls for them, its voice angry and dark.

“Look at me, how could I ever be Asriel again?" Flowey screams. "I’m a flower!”

Aofil puts their hand over Flowey’s mouth to prevent him from giving away their location. They lean their head carefully out from behind the tree they’ve taken cover behind. At the bottom of the path leading up to Mt. Ebott they see the tall and slender monster swipe away the hedges that covered the entrance to the path leading up. Aofil curses under their breath, and takes off up alongside the path, staying as low as they can.

Shadows dance on the dirt path, but above the trees shines no sun. Flowey looks up at Aofil. “Creatures like us, Aofil, we don’t deserve to have friends. The world would be a better place if we just let them be. We’ve done nothing but make everyone miserable.”

“Either you open your mouth to say how we get out of here, Flowey,” Aofil whispers as loud as they dare and can while running, “or you keep it closed. We’re getting out of here!”

Flowey blinks as he tries to process what Aofil just said. “We?” He looks down the path, catching just a glimpse of his and Aofil’s pursuer through the trees moving across his vision. “But, Asriel?”

“That is not the Asriel I want back. It's not the Asriel that should be back. That Asriel is still best friends with Chara, and you are not. You know who they really are. You said so to Frisk.”

“They’re not the greatest person.”

“And that’s the only Asriel that could join his parents in their new chapter. The only one that can snap them out of their memories.”

The forest around them give way to a plateau looking over nothing. The cliff wall is glittering in the light, but still there’s no sun above them. Aofil’s shadow lies tall on the ground, pointing against the cave.

“Aofil, where are we going?” Flowey asks quietly.

A furious roar echoes up the mountain. Aofil spots tree falling violently, clearing a path up Mt. Ebott, and with alarming rate. “I don’t know, but away from that.”

The cave is as warm as it ever was, and just as dark. It’s not long before Aofil sees the large hole leading into the Underground. Aofil stops, and considers it.

Flowey looks over the edge, and then back at Aofil. “Don’t be an idiot, the Barrier should be broken. We can go through it.”

Aofil shakes the thought out of their head, “You’re right,” and hurries deeper into the cave. “Your head’s a bit clearer now? Can you unremember Chara and Asriel?”

“I, I don’t know? I feel so...I don’t know! I can’t think clearly!”

Aofil picks up the pace again as the sound of trees falling becomes louder. “Could it be that you’re feeling? Is that why? I mean, technically you have a soul now. It’s just stuck with mine at the moment. Think, Flowey. You have to get Chara and Asriel out of your head.”

Flowey looks at his vines. They’re darkened by tears. “So this is how I’m gonna be all the time if I become Asriel again?”

“You still remember how you felt after you broke the Barrier?”

The sound of creaking wood fades, and the walls twist around Aofil and Flowey. The ground underneath Aofil’s feet shift. They look down, stone, processed stone, and the color, purple.

“No!” Flowey shouts, and Aofil stops in the nick of time. A large carving of the Delta Rune stares at them.

Feral huffs catches Aofil's ears from behind them. “Dammit.”

Flowey lowers his head in shame. “Sorry, I couldn’t control it.”

Aofil tries to step out of reach from the charging beast thundering towards them, but they fail. Flowey is ripped out of their hand, and thrown against the door. The pot smashes into pieces, and Flowey lies still in the middle of them.

“Two souls left,” the monster growls, reaching over towards Aofil.

Aofil covers their chest with their arm. They grab a hold of their side, holding their arm as tightly as they can over their chest. “You’re not getting it!”

The beast’s head snap back, and its wild laughter almost shatters Aofil’s eardrums. “Oh, not me, I’m not gonna use the souls, you are. You need to wake up from here. I know I can’t do this, but I’ll be damned if I’m not letting Asriel be himself. He’s the one that deserves to come back, not Flowey.”

“He’s broken free of you, Chara!” Aofil struggles to wriggle out of the monster’s grip, but fails.

“I want the Asriel that’s alive to actually be Asriel! How does that not make sense? Why should we settle for the broken acorn when we have the oak?”

“Because you just want the Asriel that you still have a grip over!”

“Me?” the monster scoffs. “No, I can’t come back. Besides, your mother said, this is all about Asriel, remember? And you’re right, the plan is too big to fail, and you choosing Flowey over Asriel would throw everything away. You see, unlike you,” Aofil’s hand is thrown away from their chest, “I care about the monsters.”

The claws burrow into Aofil’s chest, clutching their soul. Aofil can’t do anything else but endure the pain. With pinpoint precision the white lining of Aofil’s soul is peeled out, and discarded like trash.

Another similar glow is brought out of the white fur looming over Aofil. A joint red and white heart. With equal precision, the red soul is plucked out from it, and the now hollow white soul is pushed against Aofil’s, filling in the gaps left behind.

The large monster falls to its knees, coughing and straining in pain. With a shaking hand it summons the other four souls. “Bring him back,” the monster demands as it forces the souls it has inside Aofil.

“It moved!”

Aofil feels exhausted, where are they?

“Back up, Alphys. You too!” A cyan shape lifts Aofil’s chin up. “I’m in no mood to play twenty questions, so I’m just gonna ask one!” Something sharp pokes at Aofil’s throat. “Who are you?”

Their vision crawls back to them. They’re in their basement. Above them stands Undyne. She’s looking at them furiously, and with one of her spears pointed against them. There’s someone else with her. Aofil’s narrows their eyes, why is it so hard to focus? It’s Alphys, but why is she here as well?

Undyne turns her head and throws out her arm to her side. “I said, get back!”

Aofil locks eyes with the one Undyne’s blocking with her hand. The figure pats their chest.

“What did you do?” Aofil roars as they pounce against Frisk, their claws tearing up the purple and blue sweater just before they’re janked back by their other arm. They look at it, it’s chained against the soul extractor. Aofil swirls their head back.

They catch just a glimpse of the blunt spear Undyne swings against them.

“Good thing we double looped the chain,” she breathes out as Aofil loses consciousness.


	28. New face, old friend

"Yes, Alphys, this time it'll not be able to move. I shackled the horns as well, just to be safe. And Frisk, didn’t I say that we should’ve called Asgore the first thing we did? You’re lucky it didn’t slice you open like a can of tomato sauce.”

Aofil blinks.

“Undyne! D-don’t talk like that! You’re scaring them, and me.”

Their head is pounding, what happened?

“Sorry, Alphys. It’s just, it was my fault that it could attack. If it would’ve reached Frisk, I don’t know what I could’ve done to save them. It moved so fast, I wasn’t ready.”

Something is holding their head.

“U-Undyne? It’s moving again!”

A crackling sound emerges.

“Alphys, Frisk, get back! Alphys, keep your phone ready!”

Aofil tries to reach for what’s grasping their head, but their arms are stuck, they can’t move them. Something sharp pushes against their throat, and they struggle to breathe.

“You move one more muscle except your tongue, and I’ll cut both off! I don’t care if you’re in pain, because that’s the point!” Undyne roars with uncertain anger. Her command is unstable, as if she doesn’t believe that she’s in charge. “Who are you?”

“Undyne?” Aofil asks. Their voice is feral, it’s not theirs. Why is it like this?

The pressure of her spear fades for a second as she flinches from hearing her name. She shakes her head, and pushes her spear back. “How do you know my name? Are you a monster?”

“Aofil,” they cough. “I’m Aofil.”

Again Undyne’s grip on her spear loosens. “A-Aofil?” she stutters out in confusion. “B-but, how?”

Aofil struggles for air as their throat is granted permission to breathe by Undyne’s spear. They take some deep gulps of air, each breath sounding foreign to their ears. Once they finally soothe their lungs they lean back, and let their eyes wander around their...basement? Yeah, it’s their basement. They’re back in it. Wait, back? When did they get here to begin with? And why is their body this, monstrous?

Undyne’s head cocks as Frisk brushes past her leg. “Frisk?”

Aofil again locks eyes with Frisk, and again their exhales quicken. They throw themselves against the child. “You!” they roar, before being janked back by their head and arms. Their entire weight recoils back against the cold steel behind them, and the machine shakes violently. The world around them starts spinning, and they struggle to recover. What did they just do? Why did they attack Frisk? Undyne charges them before they can get their bearings back.

Again the air is forced out of Aofil’s lungs. Undyne doesn’t waste the opportunity. She pushes her arm up against the throat, and her spear against the chest. “No Aofil of mine would lunge against Frisk like that! Who are you?” Aofil feels the skin on their chest give way to the sharp edge of Undyne’s spear. “Last chance!”

“My house, then main road, take a right at the echo flower house!” Aofil shouts with the last air still left for them to use.

Despite the alien tone and growl of their voice, the unfamiliar eyes, and the monster form they have, Undyne knows, it’s Aofil. She lets them go with a bewildered and confused expression on her face. “What are you doing, Aofil? Why are you attacking Frisk?!”

Aofil again breathes greedily.

“And why are you like this?” Undyne slumps down on the ground as her spear disperses from her hand. “How are you like this?”

Alphys peeks up from behind a table lying on its side. “Undyne? What happened?” She rushes to Undyne’s side and grabs hold of her. “Y-you’re not attacking her unless you get through me!” Alphys shouts to Aofil. “I-I don’t know who you are, but-”

“I’m Aofil,” they interrupt.

“But I’m gonna-” Alphys stops as the name settles in her ears. “Aofil?” She takes a look at Undyne, concludes that she’s fine, and walks closer to Aofil with her claws tapping against one another. “Is it really you?”

They nod.

“This is,” Alphys takes off her glasses and cleans them with her lab coat, “this is unbelievable. You’re not you.”

Undyne throws a hand up, “Well, obviously,” before leaning her lobe against it. “What is this, Aofil?”

“Can you take the chains off, please?” they ask.

Alphys returns her glasses onto her nose. “Sure, Aofil.”

Undyne stretches out an arm before her, stopping her with a squeal. “You attacked Frisk, Aofil,” she reminds as she removes her hand from her lobe. She lifts up a pair of fingers, “and you did it twice. I know that you are you, but are you you?”

Aofil and Alphys both wrinkle their noses at the question.

“Look,” Undyne massages her forehead for a second, “it might be you inside that body, but how do we know it’s your body? How do we know you’re in control? Again, you attacked Frisk!”

Alphys inspects the large and alien monster shackled up like an animal, and takes a step back. Undyne summons another spear in her hand. “Sorry, Aofil, but you have to convince me.”

“Magic,” Aofil answers, grunting at the sound of their voice.

“Gotta have to be more specific.”

“I can’t.”

Undyne shrugs. “We’ll, then I’m not convinced. Sorry.”

“Aofil, you’re a human with monster features. How? It shouldn’t be possible, unless.” Alphys moves her eyes to the machine Aofil’s shackled to, and her face drains of color. “Oh no, what if-”

“What?” Undyne asks, with her eye still on Aofil.

“A-Aofil, d-did you use this m-machine?”

Undyne puts a hand on Alphys’ shaking shoulder. “Alphys?” she asks her, but Alphys’ eyes are glued towards Aofil. Her clenched fists are shaking in anger, and she’s breathing sharply.

Her eyes narrow, and Undyne almost loses grip on her shoulder as Alphys throws a finger against Aofil. “Who did you kill?” she rages out. “Who did you kill and absorb? Why? Were you curious? Answer me!”

Undyne turns Alphys around and looks her in the eye. “Alphys, what are you talking about? Did Aofil kill someone?”

“T-that machine, it’s a s-soul extractor.”

Undyne furrows her brow, “Extractor? How do you mean? Wait,” and her mouth hangs open. “You,” her face goes through a range of emotions, confusion, anger, disgust, questioning, “you built that in our home? Why?”

Alphys posture slumps back down from the upright one she assumed while accusing Aofil. She hides her head in her hands, and her tail curls up. “I-I’m.”

“No,” Undyne stands up and backs away from Alphys, “why would you do that? It turned Aofil into what they are now, and you said they had to kill someone to do it? Why would you build something like that? I thought you left this behind! Why?”

Alphys and Undyne stare at each other. Undyne trying to figure out how she feels about it, and Alphys trying to figure out how to tell her about it.

Undyne and Alphys both flinch backwards as Sans pops up between them with his accompanying gust of wind that blows dust into Aofil’s face. They blow their lips, and stab their lower one with a fang.

Again Alphys is forced to clean her glasses. She squints. “Sans?”

“aofil applied for a teacher position with toriel, right? how did it go?”

“W-what?” Alphys returns her glasses onto her confused, wrinkled nose. “Why does it matter?”

Sans motions with his hand that he want an answer.

“Um, well, I think. They got the job, but why is it important right now?”

“undyne,” Sans spins on his heel, looking over her struggling to get out of the pile of boxes she backed into, “what about the trial?”

“What,” she leans against a box with her hand, and it falls over. She catches herself just before hitting the ground, “what trial?”

Sans shines up. “heh, looks like it actually works, and we got lucky with the memories.” he claps his hands. “how fantastic.”

He hums a pleased song as he walks up to Aofil. “you have him under control?” Sans starts as he tinkers with the shackles above Aofi. “scared me a bit back there.” He taps his chin. “this is a weird knot.”

Aofil can’t believe their tear filled eyes. “You’re alive?”

Sans leans down with a perplexed look. “yes? did you suddenly forget that i’m not a human skeleton?”

“No, it’s just...” A shackle opens, and Aofil’s arm falls down. “I thought I killed you.”

Sans opens the other makeshift shackle. “you got me pretty good with that fireball, i’ll give you that, but kill me? nah, not you, you don’t love me enough. also, as i guessed before,” he pulls down his shirt, exposing his restored ribs, “healing magic works.”

“But,” Aofil rubs their wrists, the strange feeling doesn’t mask the pain. They look at their wrists, the pain is familiar, “nevermind.”

Undyne grabs Sans’ collar and throws him back. “They attacked Frisk!”

“you did, aof? why?” He stands up from landing in the felt chair. “wait, did you do something, kiddo?” he asks Frisk with a raised eye socket.

Frisk shakes their head.

“no soul sheltering, no keeping them alive, no nothing?”

They shake their head again.

“B-but-” Aofil lowers their head in thought. The rope on their horns taut, and they grunt as it drags their horns back. They grind their teeth against the pain.

“oops,” Sans apologizes, and walks past a stunned Undyne. “sorry, didn’t see them." He unties the rope from the machine, and helps Aofil up on their feet while brushing them off with his hand. “you were saying?”

“If Frisk didn’t touch my soul,” Aofil thinks for themselves.

“doesn’t seem like it,” Sans shrugs and finishes off his cleaning, “unless the kid is lying, of course.” He peeks his head out from behind Aofil. “are you?” he asks Frisk. Again they shake their head.

“So Chara wasn’t real?” Aofil whispers. Their face turns bitter and sour. “Dammit!” they yell, causing the entire basement to rumble. They relax their clutched fists, and sigh deeply. “My head is a mess,” they complain with a tired voice. They run their hands over their face, but it doesn’t help in the slightest. If anything, it made them more aware of the foreign form they have, which is the complete opposite.

“how are you feeling?”

“It’s hard to describe. I’m also not hearing-” Aofil is silenced by Sans’ hand. The question wasn’t directed at them, but to Undyne and Alphys.

“I’m confused, that’s what I am,” Undyne answers with a flail of her arms. “Alphys is too, for that matter. The smartest monster is confused! How did you manage that?”

“arguably,” Sans coughs just loud enough for Aofil to hear, but not the others, “but other than that, how is your head?” Sans presents Aofil with his hands. “if you look at aof here, what do you think? can you even think?”

Undyne’s brow furrows so far down that her eye patch covers her forehead. “What kind of question is that? I see Aofil being a monster, except, you know, they’re supposed to be human!” she screams. Confused and bewildered she stares at Sans, her hand twitching and summoning cyan sparks, just like her eye.

He nods, pleased with the answer, and turns to Alphys. “and you, alphys?”

Undyne throws her arms into the air. “Ngaaaah! Now my head is a mess too!”

“less of a mess,” Sans corrects.

Undyne grin is twitching like her eye. “What was that?”

“nothing. alphys?”

“Um,” she glances over to Undyne, who’s restraining herself from making another spear, “I feel fine, I think? Is Aofil radiating something dangerous?”

Sans winks at Aofil. “seems to be working.”

“What?”

Sans taps at his skull, and spins his finger around. Aofil eyes open wide, “Ah,” they see what he means. They nod to him.

“What! Are! You! Talking! About?!” Undyne huffs angrily. “Just tell me! My head is spinning! It’s annoying.”

“no wonder it’s spinning, it’s your top,” Sans grins.

Undyne mumbles obscenities under her breath while the cyan glow in her hand increases in strength. “Not in the mood for jokes.”

“then how about tea?” Sans proposes with his arms wide open. “undyne, could you brew some?”

“Why me?”

“because right now, your silhouette is closest to an adult human’s,” Sans explains while digging through the boxes Undyne fell into. “if anyone happens to walk by, i’ve no idea who might, mind you, but then they won’t immediately be alarmed by a lizard tail, or by children walking around in a house that no children live in.”

He tosses Undyne a packet of Golden Flower tea, as well as a kettle. She catches them without blinking, and sighs through her lips. “I should’ve stayed in the Underground.” She’s hit in her eye by a beam of sunlight from atop the door frame. She again shakes her head, and ascends the stairs on heavy legs.

Sans continues excavating a folded table, some cups, and a table cloth. Aofil recognizes none of them, he must’ve brought them with him. When did he have time for that? Unless, Aofil looks at the machine behind them, unless Sans lived here. That worries Aofil, worries them something immense. They lean their head against their fur covered hand, it’s soft like a freshly washed towel. “How long was I out?”

“Um, I think an hour or something,” Alphys answer while standing in the middle of the room, caressing her tail with both hands.

“No, I meant before when,” Aofil catches their tongue in the last second, and on a fang. They huff away the pain, “Nevermind.”

“Ah,” Alphys nods before giving her tail another impatient squeeze. She eventually decides to help Sans with arranging the table.

Despite Frisk leaning into Aofil’s view, they’re still lost in thought. Frisk snaps their finger right in front of the feral eyes, and they react by flinching. Aofil brushes Frisk away with the back of their hand. “Better for the both of us.” Frisk lifts up three fingers in response. “Better for the three of us,” Aofil corrects.

Frisk pushes away Aofil’s hand, and sits down next to them. They run their eyes up and down, and turn their head away with a conflicted frown.

“Just another monster to you?”

Frisk shakes their head angrily.

“Don’t worry, I know what you mean. You’re used to monsters attacking you and not fighting back, at least,” Aofil moves their narrowed eye towards Frisk, “not this timeline.”

Frisk looks away and rubs their arm. They blink in thought, and then look up at Aofil again. They reach for a dangling ear, but Aofil stops them.

“The less I’m aware of how I am now, the better.”

Frisk returns their hand.

“Thank you. Now, do you have any idea how we might get him out of me?”

Frisk sighs.

“Yeah, I ain’t got the foggiest either. At least I can think clearly, since I don’t feel him in my mind anymore. Don’t really know if that’s a good or a bad thing. Last thing I saw of him was...” Aofil’s voice trails off, their throat feels like gravel, on top of sounding like it. They look Frisk in the eyes, and Frisk flinches just slightly meeting them. “I know that Sans asked you before, but did you do anything with my soul when I was out?”

Frisk puts a hand on their chest, and shakes their head. Aofil keeps eye contact for a little while longer, just to be safe, but eventually they give up. “So I guess Chara was just a memory.”

Frisk nods, and reaches for Aofil’s ear again. They calmly, but firmly, lean away from the hand.

“Tea’s done, nerds,” Undyne exclaims from atop the stairs, “and whatever you are, Aofil. Seriously, how? Me and Alphys went here to bring back your umbrella, and we saw this huge and lumbering shadow walking around in your house,” she explains as she walks down, being careful not to spill the steaming kettle.

Aofil shoots a look towards Sans. “Umbrella?” they mouth accusingly. Sans shrugs with his hands upraised.

“Since the door was locked,” Undyne continues, “we used the window, and found you laying face down on the floor. I think it was the first time ever Sans was happy to see us.”

“did you find your jaw that you dropped upstairs?” Sans quips. Undyne freezes him with a look. He thaws after a second. “hey, not my fault you can’t handle my incredibly fair complex.”

Undyne blows her lisp at the very notion. “He told us to carry you down, didn’t have the bright idea to tell us who you were though!” She places the hot kettle on the table. “Just carry this thing downstairs and lock it up, it might be dangerous.” Undyne snaps her fingers. “And then you shortcutted away!”

“A-Aofil attacked Frisk,” Alphys adds.

“So whatever plan you had, Sans, it almost got Frisk killed.”

Frisk and Aofil share a look, Aofil looking down at the wide stripes they made with their claws, there’s still some fabric left on them. They open their mouth to say sorry, but Frisk jumps into their embrace.

With a soft cough Alphys apologizes for disturbing the humans. “A-Aofil?” she asks with an upraised finger. “C-can I ask you something?”

Aofil nods without smiling, it would probably just scare her.

Alphys taps her claws together. “H-how did this happen? How did you become like this? I asked Sans about it, but he told me he didn’t know how humans procreate.”

“heh.”

Undyne rolls her eye along with a deep sigh.

“Anyway, I might be able to help you," Alphys continues, "but first I need to know exactly how this happened. You used the soul extractor, right?”

“I don’t really know if I should tell you.” Aofil looks at their hand. “It might do more harm than good.”

Alphys grabs her tail again. “U-unless you want to be this way. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Oh, no, I definitely want to be a human again.”

“beats me,” Sans comments as he combs his skull, “but it’s probably wise not to tell them that you and i tried to bring back asriel.”

Undyne and Alphys heads almost fly off their necks as they swerve them to Sans. Aofil’s eyes shoot wide open, and again they try to say something, but they’re hushed by Sans’ finger. “let me finish. we tried to use this.” He picks up the memory box from his pocket. “i placed it inside the machine, aofil came back from their vacation that they had. that’s why their house was empty, and that’s why i tried the experiment here. they came down the stairs just as the machine went haywire, and they were hit with magic, turning them into what they are now.”

Sans takes a dramatic breath. ”anything else? and yes, that’s why they look like.”

“Asgore, and Toriel,” Undyne finishes.

“yes, thank you, undyne,” Sans stops as he sees Undyne’s frozen expression. He follows her eyes up the stairs, to the two large boss monsters standing in the doorway, blocking the sunlight from the upper floor.

“We came as fast as we could, what’s happening?” Asgore’s face turns to stone as he sees Aofil sitting against the machine. Toriel is confounded at first, but has the same reaction once her eyes also spot the goat-like creature.

Sans glances at the set table, and motions his hand towards it.

“tea?”


	29. Ending with a beginning

"toriel, how is your head? asgore, same question to you."

The absurdity of the question tears Asgore away from the strange creature at the end of the basement. "I'm sorry?" he asks with a furrowed and confused brow.

"did aofil get the teaching position?"

After a perplexed couple of seconds Toriel nods. "Yes," she answers, "but I don't see how it matters. What is that creature?"

Sans waves the question away. "all in due time, my queen."

Toriel twists her lips at the title.

"anything strange you're feeling about aofil having the job? any deaths associated?"

Toriel's eyebrow fly up in disgusted surprise. "Sans! What deaths?" Her hand moves up to her mouth. "Is Aofil?"

"oh, no no no no," Sans reassures with his hands. "don't worry, aofil is very much alive. in fact, all of this is quite the opposite of death, so to speak, but i digress. undyne, pour the royal couple a round, please," Sans suggests. "to make it easier for them to swallow."

Undyne shifts her eye between Sans and Asgore and Toriel. "W-what? Swallow what?"

"you explaining everything to them."

Stunned, Undyne can barely hold her jaw up. She glances back up to the large boss monsters, and when she turns back to where Sans was, only a small breeze meets her.

Sans grabs a hold of both the humans. Before Undyne realizes, and before she begins to loudly protest, Sans shortcuts away with Aofil and Frisk.

The air inside Aofil's lungs is knocked out as they land chest first on the plateau overlooking their town. They lift up their arm to scratch their nose, but the fur on their arm tickles them even more, and they sneeze loudly.

Frisk and Sans recoil away from the sound. "whoa, sneeze a bit louder so that we're sure that they can hear you, aof," Sans grumbles to Aofil, annoyed that they startled him.

Aofil tries to scratch themselves with their finger instead, but they stab it with a claw. They grin against the pain, and stab themselves again with their fang. "Dammit, I hate this," they groan as they dry away the blood, leaving a few strands of hair in the wound that they have to blow away. "So damn annoying."

"don't get used to it."

"Don't plan to."

"good, because we still need to get that prince out of you." Sans scratches his chin with his finger. "do you think asgore and toriel will age when we bring him back? i mean, it's still his soul you're housing. even better, do you think they'll age with him still inside you?"

Frisk tugs at his arm, looking very worried.

"hm?" Sans reads Frisk's worried expression. "sorry, i let my mind wander. though, i wonder why they showed up in the first place."

A tune plays from Sans' pocket, he takes out his phone, and puts it up to the side of his skull. "hello?"

"Sans!" The volume of Undyne's voice almost kocks Sans over. "Where are you?"

"undyne, it's been so long," Sans answers with a raised voice while keeping the phone an arm's length away. "when did i give you this number?"

"I'm calling from Alphys' phone!"

"ah, so that’s how. thank you." Sans thanks before disengaging the call.  "guess alphys must've called asgore."

Aofil nods, "Yeah, I think I remember Undyne asking Alphys to," and looks around while throwing up their shoulders, "but why did we shortcut away from Toriel and Asgore?"

“because the last time they saw their son being fused with a human they declared war on humanity. granted, it went a bit different last time, but the broad strokes are the same, and the broad strokes are the things i’m worried about.”

“Which must mean that you have a better plan? Otherwise you just jumped to conclusions.”

Sans seats himself on the edge of the plateau. "i have an idea.”

Aofil waits for Sans to finish his sentence, but there is none. “And?” they try to hurry.

Sans shrugs. “just realized it wouldn’t work, sorry.” He lies down on his back.

Aofil rubs their forehead, being careful not to rip it open. “What was it?”

“laying low and waiting for the above lab to be completed, but somehow i don’t see us doing it.”

Aofil sits down next to Sans, Frisk joins them on Aofil’s lap. Aofil makes sure Frisk is leaning backwards as to not fall down the cliff's edge. “Didn’t we do all of this because we didn’t want to wait for the Above Lab?”

“the plan wasn’t for you to absorbing asriel’s soul,” Sans reminds with a tap on Aofil’s knee. “so the plans i had are a bit fuzzy at the moment. both figuratively,” he plucks a couple strands off of Aofil’s knee, and they groan, “and literally.”

Aofil massages their knee, again reminding themselves of how they look, and again cursing themselves for doing it. “The less you could do to remind me of this, the better, Sans. Every time I move I’m bombarded with all these strange feelings. They all have this asterisk above them, there’s a clause to everything I move and touch.”

Sans chuckles to himself.

“Yes, very funny, I know. You do that again and I’ll stab you with one.”

Sans opens one eye and nods towards Frisk. “like you almost did them.”

Frisk tries to cover their shredded sweater with their arms, but their arms are too small to cover the wide holes. They bundle up the scraps holding the sweater together, and lean into Aofil’s torso. Aofil want to feel relieved by it, but their body isn’t. It’s screaming to them about the alien fur covering them, and the abnormal sense of touch emanating from their fingers as they pat Frisk’s head for reassurance. Frisk looks up to them. Aofil blinks, the muscles around their eyes still figuring out how to readjust the focus, and smiles warmly, the new row of teeth they have are resting uneasy on their lips, and a fang is constantly pushing out against their lower lip.

“There’s gotta be a way,” they sigh, grimacing at the low and feral tone of their voice. They hear someone completely strange to them speak, but with their words. Their ears twitch, and brush gently against their chin.

“any way we can ask asriel about it?”

“I don’t feel him anymore, it’s only me in my head. I do feel that my chest is heavier somehow, so I’m pretty sure he’s still here.”

“could also be the stuffing to fill a pillow that you have on it?”

“Hilarious.”

“i know.”

Aofil is tempted just to swat Sans off the cliff, but he would just shortcut back up, so why bother? Instead they try to take in the warmth of the setting sun. The orange glow is pleasant, and just for a moment it detracts from their body. They’re reminded yet again when Frisk puts their hand on Aofil’s chest. They burrow their fingers into the fur, and rests it against the skin underneath. Aofil grabs their wrist, “Frisk?” but Frisk keeps it there. The kid glances at Sans, sees that his eyes are closed, and pull down one of their eyelid with their other hand. Aofil’s curse looks back at them, and Frisk again taps on their chest.

“Determination?” Aofil wonders out loud.

Sans wakes up from his nap. “what?”

Aofil searches their head. “Wait, wasn’t Flowey created by determination?” they barely remember.

Frisk nods.

Sans yawns and rubs his eye. “what are we doing?”

“Frisk is suggesting we use determination to bring back Asriel.”

Sans sees Frisk’s hand. “using your curse?”

“I guess.”

Sans eyes turn dark, and he stands up slowly. “better now than later.”

“Sans, we’re not doing this on a plateau overlooking a deadly drop on one side,” Aofil throws a thumb towards the cave, “and a deadly hole on the other.”

Sans leans over the edge, and his pupils return. “you have another place in mind?”

Aofil takes an unsteady breath, “Actually,” and sighs with the wind, “I do. It’s secluded, no one will see us there. It’s a bit poetic, as well.”

“a place where we don’t risk falling to our splattery demise, and it’s poetic as well?“ Sans motions for Aofil to start walking. “after you.”

Aofil lifts Frisk out of their lap, and stands up. They do it a bit too quick, and almost stumble from their body’s new balance. They manage to find it though. “We’re probably gonna get there after nightfall, just so you know. I don’t want Frisk there either, in case I go completely determined.”

“well, that’s too bad, because i want them to come with us. if you go completely determined then i want the only one that’s managed to stand up against something worse with me.”

Aofil wanders their eyes to the small child holding their hand, squeezing it hard with all their might. Sans’ words ring true in their ears, and they wonder, what is a hypergod compared to them?

“and when,” Sans hawks, “if i have to try and contain you,” he corrects, “then frisk might help you calm yourself, or take care of your soul if things go way wrong.”

Aofil squeezes Frisk’s hand back, and squats down to their level. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

Frisk nods, and Aofil offers them their shoulders to sit on. They gently swat away Frisk’s hand reaching for their ear though, they have to be firm on that.

The last rays of the sun shows them the way down the side of the mountain, towards the place where it all started.

To the place where Aofil died.

The forest is quiet, there’s just the calm wind and the sound of footsteps against soil that occupies their ears. Even though the sun is down, Aofil can still see clearly. At least there’s a silver lining to their new eyes. The weight of Frisk is negligible as well, Aofil allows themselves to chalk that up to a positive as well. Maybe if they had time they could get used to it, maybe, not really.

Besides, they have someone else inside them, someone else sharing their soul, and every second that passes increases the chances of them coming back into consciousness. Not again, Aofil can’t handle it again. Asriel’s confusion, his fear, his desperate cries, Aofil heard them all, and felt them all. They felt themselves walking without them thinking to do so. Their body was a puppet, with a panicked Asriel controlling them.

Frisk leans a worried frown into Aofil’s view as the shiver they felt was almost as strong as an earthquake.

Sans reacts as well. “you cold?”

Aofil nods.

Sans throws up an eye socket, “you’re feeling chilly even though you’re covered in fur?” but shrugs it away. “i’d give you a piece of my soul, but that wouldn’t really help, now that i think about it. never seen hair on bone though.”

“Sans.”

“don’t worry, you wouldn’t be able to handle me anyway.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Frisk dodges a branch that bounces off one of Aofil’s horns, but Aofil doesn’t feel it. Their mind is busy elsewhere.

Who is it combined with them anyway?

If it’s Asriel inside them, then Chara will still have a grip over him. Aofil peeks over their shoulder, at Frisk. The kid iscleaning the brown spot left behind by the branch, and Aofil turning their head has them reaching for it before giving it one last rub with their thumb. Frisk smiles back, and Aofil returns it.

It fades as they return their eyes forward. A small voice inside them asks them if it really was Frisk, or if it was Chara smiling, and it’s their own voice. Having Asriel back with Chara around. Chara’s hate for humanity, and Asriel’s devotion to them, can’t bode well.

The other option? Flowey. Is it the better one? Aofil doesn’t know. They know he’s left Chara behind, but how much? Can he leave himself behind? He did it once, after he broke the Barrier, and this time he’ll hopefully have a full soul. Although, what if he stays Flowey even with a soul? What if he just gains more power and a cuter muzzle? No one would figure Asriel being evil. Toriel and Asgore would never think that their son that’s somehow back from the dead would be anything than the angel they remembered him as. Their hopes and dreams, back again with them. Would Frisk even raise an eyebrow?

Did Aofil do the right thing in bringing Flowey with them? They sigh, should’ve just walked away. That option is gone now, they reaffirm to themselves while tapping their claws together. Can’t really walk away while looking like they do now, and with someone else inside them.

They didn’t ask for this, they never asked to be involved. The monsters came into Aofil’s life, not the other way around. What were they supposed to do? Just ignore them while they were busy cooking up a storm in their kitchen, and in their life? It was supposed to be a new chapter for Aofil, and for the monsters, but what is there to show for it? Tangled memories, tangled souls, tangled everything. A damn mess.

The things Aofil has seen, the things they’ve had to do, all for a kid they don’t even know. They already died once, that should’ve been evidence enough to cut the chord. But no, it was not to be. Aofil just had to not make it easy for everyone, because of course they had to. They were the human to the monsters, the one and only human. But despite that, and despite everything Aofil did for them, they didn’t even ask them their name!

“this the place?”

Aofil releases their clenched fists and relaxes their bite. Just in front of them, standing dark against the darkness from the overcast above them, is their old village.

Aofil brushes up against some ivy that falls over and cracks as it hits the ground. They catch a rusted mailbox out of the corner of their eye, but they turn their head away from it. Dammit, it’s the last thing they wanted to see now.

“the ground,” Sans whispers. “it’s dead.”

“Because I died here.”

Sans snaps his head towards Aofil. It’s the first time Aofil has seen him at a loss for words. They takes a deep breath as they lower Frisk from their shoulders. “Back when Chara and Asriel attacked, they killed me. Sliced me open. Almost like I did Frisk.” Aofil sighs at their hand. “I don’t know why Chara chose this place to be buried in. Maybe it was just another string they pulled with Asriel since it’s the closest from Mt. Ebott.” Aofil stares at the patch of flowers in the middle of the village. Sans squints, and summons a glowing bone that he tosses towards it. It fades away, but right before it does so, the hollow shape of a small child is briefly illuminated.

“Or perhaps they missed home after all,” Aofil finishes.

Sans gives them a moment to collect themselves before nudging their side. “you ready? no use in postponing it.”

“No, but I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

“two souls mean twice the courage, right?”

“Twice the fear as well.”

Sans nods. “yeah, i guess that too.”

Even from a distant, Aofil can still feel something building up inside of them. They can’t tell if it’s their curse, or if it’s Asriel waking up.

“Only one way to find out,” Aofil takes a deep breath, and march towards where they and Asriel first met.

The soil underneath them hardens. The air around them tastes weird. They feel their cheeks pull, and blossom. A blinding light forces them to cover their face with their arm.

The cloth of their purple robe fails to shield them from the intense rays of the sun. They had almost forgotten what the Surface looked like. They blink, and their new eyes adjust to the light. They feel a tear run down their cheek, and they hate it. They sample the air again, it’s so different than in the Underground. They look down at their arms, holding their corpse.

“Together, Asriel,” Chara whispers with their and Asriel's combined mouth.

Aofil’s eyes shoot open. They’re turned towards Sans, with their hand upraised.

“aof, what’s happening?”

Aofil tries to open their mouth to speak, but they can’t. They scream for their hand to move, but it’s thrown down against the skeleton. Why aren't they in control? Is Asriel...

Chara swipes away a branch standing in their way. They’re so strong, so powerful. Collecting the remaining six souls will be easy! Then they and Asriel will save the monsters, they’re the future of the Underground. Together.

“aof!”

Aofil’s hand rips a chunk out of Sans’ jacket. He sidesteps the rest of the swipe, and throws Frisk away from him and Aofil. Their hand is raised again.

The first human Chara spots flinches violently in fear. “What the hell?!” the man shouts. Chara ignores him, but they make a note to themselves, he will be the first. A choir of scared and confused gasps follow them as they near the patch of flowers in the center of the community.

“Chara?”

They recognize the voice. Dammit, why haven’t they forgotten her.

“Chara!”

Him too! Why are they here?! Nevermind that other human, those two will be the first. Finally, after all this time. Chara can’t help but let out a laugh. They’ll show those idiots the curse they brought upon themselves.

“Mom, dad! I’m scared. What is that?”

No!

Chara falls on their knees, and their corpse slips out of their grasp onto the bed of flowers.

No, not them. It can't be-

“aofil!”

A glowing bone hits Aofil in their side, and they start coughing violently. They entire body is aching, their face is burning. Everything’s a haze. What’s happening?

Aofil’s head is turned towards Frisk. They feel themselves bend their knees. What's happening? They feel two events happening at once! They're not in control in either one!

With a lunge Chara slashes open the figure next to them. It was not one of their parents, damn. There’s screaming around them, but it’s like music to their ears. They feel the warm blood run against their claws and fur. They’re so powerful.

Another one attacks them, and they dodge the attack. Another one throws a pitchfork, but it zips past Chara with room to spare. They feel someone standing behind them, and with a satisfied grin on their lips they swing their hand around, and hits it. They turn around.

There, next to their corpse, lies their twin. Chara freezes, and in that moment they’re struck by a man swinging a shovel. They feel their grip on their body fade.

Asriel looks up at the furious faces looking down on him. Hate and rage is burning alongside confusion inside their eyes. Asriel summons a desperate ball of flame that he throws against the ground. Dust and smoke covers him, and he dives for his best friend. He picks up their blood soaked corpse, and rushes back towards Mt. Ebott.

He looks back over his shoulder, seeing a man slumped over the child still laying there. He hears one last name. “Chara!”

“No!” Aofil shouts. They toss aside the skeleton in their hands, and command their body to turn. “I’m in control, Asriel!”

The ground underneath their feet turns loose. Aofil feels their body fight against their every move, but they force themselves through it. Their entire body burns hotter with every step taken closer to the place where they died, but they continue.

They are determined.

"You can't even control your memories, Asriel! You made me watch Chara kill me! You made me feel what it felt to kill myself! That's enough!"

Aofil's chests is pounding like a thousand drums, and once they finally reach the center, they put their hand against the beating.

“Out!” they yell.

Their claws dig into their skin, but they finally reach it. With all their strength they force their soul out in the open. The pink glow stings in their eyes, but not for long. Lightning shoots through their entire being as they pinch the white soul inside theirs.

“Out!” Aofil commands, gripping it with their fingers.

Their head turns light, their body almost collapses under its own weight, but they won’t let it. They throw their own soul back inside them, feeling their determination fill them up. They cage the white and quivering sliver of a soul inside their hands.

“Out!” they roar with all their might, clutching the soul against their palms. They focus everything that they are inside the soul, and clench it harder.

“Asriel!”

A blinding light forces Aofil's hands apart. Their entire body is thrown against the ground, and a piercing pain is shot through their chest. The heaviness that follows crushes their ribs, and they feel the light give way to a washing darkness.

Aofil can barely breathe, their lungs are burning from the smoke around them. They can barely see too. They blink, but nothing comes of it. They try to sit up, but something heavy is pushing down on their chest. They put their hand on it. Soft fur.

“God dammit!” they scream at the top of their lungs, and slam their fist down on themselves.

A loud bleat snaps them out of their rage, and a whimper follows suit. Again they pat their chest, and again they feel fur. What? Aofil rubs their fingers together. Skin, against skin.

“Asriel?” they asks as a series of coughs ambush them.

Something rubs against their chest.

“aof!”

A light blue shine illuminates them, and the goat child lying on their chest, crying softly. The light stops moving closer, and instead begins to shake uncontrollably. A loud guffaw follows. “yes!” Sans yells. “he’s back!”

Asriel’s back. Aofil should be happy, they should be screaming for joy, but they can’t. They tilt their head towards the patch of flowers. The empty mold of the child that fell, the child that sacrificed itself to save the monsters. The child that died, but didn’t get rest.

Because that child lived on, their soul in Frisk, and their body.

Aofil looks at their hand, it’s back to normal, back to what it was before. Yet it’s different, more alien than any fur could ever make it. It’s not Aofil’s, they’ve just been borrowing it.

From their twin, from Chara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Thanks to the wonderful BlackRazorBill for their celebration of One Falls turning one year old!.](http://blackrazorbill.tumblr.com/post/160410186572/congratulation-to-the-fanfic-author-congar-for)


	30. A night not to remember

"here, use my jacket, asriel."

"Thanks."

Asriel wraps the blue jacket around him, trying not to notice the torn up fabric. Frisk offers him a chair that they found on a nearby porch. Asriel sits down on it, and wraps the jacket closer. His head lowers, and after a weak attempt to hide his tears, he starts crying. His heavy breathing is not bitter though, it’s hopeful. The tears that crash below him are not of hate, not of sorrow, but of hope.

Asriel dries his nose, and his eyes fastens on his hand. “I,” he carefully closes it, and presses it against his chest, “I’m alive.”

Sans scoffs. “did you really think frisk would let you rot away alone? heh, you really are an idiot,” Sans bows, “prince asriel.”

Frisk gives Sans a angry shove. Sans recovers at the last second before falling over, and throws his hands up. “take it easy, kiddo. i’m just as emotional as him, but unlike him, i can’t cry.”

Frisk hardens their look, but lets it go as they hear Asriel choke on his tears. They’re quick to offer him a hug, and Asriel accepts it as quickly as he can. He pulls them closer to him, tugging at the back of Frisk’s sweater desperately to get them even closer. He rests his chin against their shoulder, burrowing his muzzle against it with all his strength.

“Thank you,” he weeps with relief. “Thank you so much!”

Frisk embraces him back with an even stronger hug. They too try to hold back their tears, but to no avail. It’s not long before both kids are soaked in the other one’s tears.

Sans nods at the spectacle, and can’t help but crack a wider smile, but someone is missing. “aof?” he wonders as he turns to the human kneeling next to the patch of flowers. “come here, you have to be thanked as well. don’t expect a kiss from me though,” he laughs, “humans aren’t really my cup of tea.”

Aofil doesn’t answer. Their back is turned against Sans, not moving in the slightest. “aof?” Sans tries again, but still no response. Sans starts feeling a bit uneasy, Aofil should be jumping for joy, right? He walks up to them, keeping on eye open for any sudden movements from Aofil, and another for the aura that seems to have subsided just like that. Even though Aofil is on their knees, Sans stands just barely taller than them. He puts a hand on Aofil’s shoulder, but they don’t acknowledge it. “that you?” Sans asks with a nod against the shape Aofil is staring at.

Aofil shakes their head. “Yes, and no.”

“no need for cryptic stuff anymore, aof. the kid is back, you’re back. no need for anymore secrets, we can focus on the future now.” Sans exhales a pleased sigh. “finally,” he chuckles. “you know, new chapter sounds tacky and stuff, but i guess that’s par of the course when asgore is in charge of naming it, but i also gotta admit that despite it sounding like something out of a kids’ book, i’m finally looking forward to it.”

Sans gives Aofil a confident pat on the back. “good work, aof, and thank you.”

“This is where Chara came back.”

“no, aof. don’t joke about that,“ Sans’ eyes narrow. “did we bring them back as well?”

Aofil eyes meets Sans’. “I’m Chara.”

Sans’ pupils fades from his eyes.

“This body was Chara’s,” Aofil corrects before they get a bone through them. Sans’ pupils grow back, but Aofil can tell that he’s still ready to strike. “I died when Chara came back with their own corpse here, the humans that were here attacked them, Asriel took over, and in his panic he must’ve picked my body up instead. Me and Chara are twins, and blood looks the same in all humans. The only ones who would notice the difference between us would’ve been our human parents. I heard through Asriel that they cried out Chara’s name over the body he left behind.”

Sans nods, even though he’s unsure what to think of it all. “so what you’re saying is?”

“I died here, but I’m buried in the Underground.”

Sans removes his hand from Aofil’s shoulder. “so, how are you here?”

“Dad healed me, put my soul inside Chara’s corpse. No wonder I have trouble containing all this magic. My soul is broken, and this isn’t even my real body.”

“so how come?”

“What?!” Aofil interrupts with a snap of their head. “How come I’m not freaking out about it? Well, to tell you the truth, I’m kinda getting used to shit like this happening all the time. I’m desensitized to finding out that my entire world view is wrong, Sans! How the fuck do you think that feels?” Aofil waits for an answer they know they aren’t getting. “I’m gonna give you a hint, I’m questioning my own body, my own mind, my own everything. That’s how deep down I am with this right now. Sure, I might have had fur on me just a couple of minutes ago, but at least I was sure that it wasn’t me, that it was something else. Now? I don’t even know if me is me! And who can correct me if I’m right or wrong? Only me can! You see where I’m going?”

Sans grabs a hold of Aofil’s shoulders. “aof! calm down! look at me!”

Sans’ grasp hits Aofil like a crashing wave against a leaf. Their head starts spinning as they try and search for how to react. They fail to catch anything, “I just,” and sinks down into their hands, “I just want this all to end!”

“aof, don’t.”

Thick tears sips through the cracks between Aofil’s fingers. “I’m so tired of everything! I just want to live one day where I can go to bed just as happy as I was when I woke up! I don’t want to question my every movement and thought. No more magic, no more monsters. I just want to be human!”

The desperate sobs bounce against the abandoned houses. They travel through the forest, singing about pain and suffering throughout the trees.

“I’m so tired,” Aofil whimpers weakly. “I’m so tired of these thoughts, these memories. I can’t walk for a minute without something happening to me.”

“aof, the worst is behind us, we have asriel back. it’s just up from here.”

“I’m not even in my own body anymore. I can’t think of something even worse than that, but I know that if I stay with you I’ll find out sooner rather than later.”

“listen to yourself, aof," Sans says after a rough shake of Aofil's shoulders. "you’re telling me that asriel wouldn’t have noticed that he picked the wrong body? that toriel didn’t notice that it wasn’t chara when he came back with the corpse? how little do you think of them? i know that you’re exhausted, aof, but it’s over now. just consider for one second that things will turn out for the better. you do that, and you'll realize that what you just suggested is absurd. trust me on this, alright?”

Aofil wants to believe him, they so much want to believe him, but they don’t know if they can. They’re too tired, too exhausted, too sick of it all. How can they live with them with all these memories in their head? They set out to solve the monster going insane from just thinking of Aofil, and they arrived at them going insane just thinking of the monsters. Why them? Why anything?

“let’s get asriel to toriel and asgore, and then we’ll be done, aof. alright? let’s make sure that we’re done with this first. just a little bit longer,” Sans pleads. “your body has gone through so much in such a short period of time. it’s tired, and so is your head. and it is your head, and your body. just give it some rest, and you'll see that the notion is crazy. and i'm saying that even with everything that has transcribed up until now. we’ll get the memories sorted for the others, and then you can sleep for as much as you like. i’ll make sure there’s a cup of tea for you when you wake up. sound good?”

Aofil nods weakly. “Get me away from this patch, it’s magic.”

“come on,” Sans puts Aofil’s arm over his shoulder, “let’s get asriel and you home.”

With heavy legs Aofil lets themselves be helped towards the crying kids. They feels some of their energy return as they move away from the patch, and as Sans reaches the hugging children, Aofil manages to stand up on their own. Sans offers his arm again, but Aofil refuses it. They need to get some blood pumping before they collapse out of exhaustion.

Sans taps a careful finger on both of the kids’ shoulders, interrupting their moment together, “save some hugs for toriel and asgore,” and opens his hands to both Asriel and Frisk. They both eagerly grab it, and again Asriel lets out a relieved sob.

“Mom, dad,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you.”

Aofil puts their hand on Sans’ shoulder while looking back at the patch. They fill their air with the cold air of the night, and feel their mind getting just a bit clearer. They have to think positive. Asriel is back, the impossible is done.

“You too,” Asriel lets out a final sob, “Chara.”

Aofil’s eyes shoot wide open. No!

They slam Asriel’s hand out of Sans’, leaving just them two alone after Sans shortcuts away with Frisk. The wind howls as Asriel rubs his hand. Terrified he stares at the human towering over him, their fringe casting a dark shadow over their eyes as the moon sneaks out from behind the clouds far above. Their fists are clenched and shaking. Angry breathing overtakes the wind, and the human clutches their head.

“Dammit!” Aofil roars with such ferocity that Asriel scrambles away as fast as he can. With determined steps they catch up to him though, and holds him down against the ground.

“W-w-why?” Asriel stutters with his muzzle wrinkled in frightened confusion.

Aofil grabs the collar of Asriel’s sweater, and wrings him up to their face. “You have three seconds to drop this act, Flowey!”

Asriel’s eyes dart around Aofil’s face in panic. “F-Flowey?”

Aofil hardens their grip on the collar, causing Asriel to choke for air. “I said, drop it! I didn’t sacrifice everything I did just to bring back the Asriel that still worships Chara! I’d rather have no Asriel than one that still think of Chara as their best friend. So I’m gonna ask you nicely one more time to drop it.”

Asriel’s desperate struggling proves useless as he feels his breath slipping away from him. He grabs hold of Aofil’s wrists. “I’m Flowey,” he screams in pain, but Aofil doesn’t loosen their hands.

“What blew up? Where were we going before Sans threw you inside the Soul Extractor?”

“I, I don’t know,” the goat admits among a string of tears and pained sobs. "W-what are you talking about?"

“You know what,” Aofil let’s go of the goat child, who grabs a hold of their throat, gasping desperately for air. “I might’ve been able to before, but right now I couldn’t care less about who you really are. The memories are gonna be in order once you meet Toriel and Asgore, and that’s the only reason I did this. The damage I did is fixed, and this horrible experience will actually have been for something.” Aofil squats down. “You’re still whatever is left of Asriel, the only soul he has left, however much that is, and now you are gonna become him, whether you’re Flowey or not. If I'm lucky you're just confused at the moment.“

Asriel looks for a way to escape, but he finds none. Aofil is leaning over him menacingly, and with a look that sends chills downs his entire being.

“You might be him,” Aofil continues with a snarl, “and if so, then you’re gonna make damn sure that you put any thoughts about Chara behind you. They’re dead, deader than you were, and I haven’t the slightest intention of bringing them back,” Aofil presses two stern fingers against Asriel’s forehead, “and neither will you, got it?”

Asriel hesitates to nod.

“See these cheeks, Asriel? Do you remember them? They’re the same ones Chara had. I’m their twin, Asriel. I have the same curse they had, and you better believe that mine is stronger now. You felt it inside me, didn’t you? So any fear you have against Chara, it will be worse from me. The best thing for you is to forget about them.“

Asriel’s mouth is so clamped in fear that he can’t muster an answer. Aofil sees in his eyes that they got their point across though.

“But, if you’re still Flowey, then great,” Aofil continues with a smile, “then you already know about Chara.” The smile quickly fades back into a frown. “However, you will not be him any longer. Flowey is dead now, and as a prize we got you, and you’ll play along. You got two choices now, either you remember who you were, and we get the real Asriel back with all you’ve learned as Flowey, or you fake it all the way through till the end. Whichever you choose, I don’t care. From now on, you’re Asriel, whether you like it or not. Understand?”

The goat child hesitates again.

“Understand?” Aofil asks again, with their knee against the fuzzy cheek.

“Yes!” Asriel yells.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Asriel!”

“Chara?”

A barely audible and fearful sob escapes the soft muzzle. “Dead.”

“The only thing I’ve seen of you, whether it be Asriel or Flower, has been you trying to kill me. Only when I became a tool to you did you retract your hand. You took after Chara, your best friend, the one you would do anything for, and did. Because of that, I had to die, I had to watch the people that were close to me die. I had to experience things no one should ever do.”

With an iron grip Aofil steals Asriel’s jaw away from him, forcing the goat to look into their burning eyes. “And you owe me because of that. You’ll be the Asriel everyone wants, you’ll dedicate every waking second I’ve given you to that. You’ll forget about Chara, and you’ll make sure that neither Toriel nor Asgore tries to bring them back. Am I being perfectly clear?”

Tears stream down Aofil’s hand, but their grip remains just as tight. “Y-yes!” Asriel shouts.

Aofil throws the fuzzy jaw out of their hand. “I don’t trust that for a second, not from the way you acted before,” they stand up, leaving Asriel curled up and with scared tears running down his face, “but that’s irrelevant right now. I’m done with this, done with magic, and I’m done with you monsters. Whatever you decide to do, I couldn’t care less, because I’m not gonna be a part of it. You’ll smile towards Toriel and Asgore, you’ll right what you did wrong, and perhaps then I can finally put this all behind me.”

They leave Asriel sobbing quietly in the grass and sink down in the patio chair. They just need to wait for Sans to eventually shortcut back. Aofil’s surprised that he isn’t here already. Would they have still chewed out Asriel even if Sans was here? Probably, they had to make sure that their struggles weren’t in vain. Did they go at him a bit too hard? Aofil moves their eyes towards the shaking goat wrapped tightly in Sans’ spotted jacket. Asriel peeks at them, but quickly turns away his gaze.

No, Aofil didn’t, not after everything Asriel and or Flowey did. Not after everything his decisions has put Aofil through.

Right?

“Mom, dad,” Aofil whispers into the darkness around him, “where are you?”

But nobody came. There’s only him, and the human. He wraps the jacket closer to him. “Mom, dad,” he tries again desperately, hoping that someone can come and save him.

But nobody came.

After a long and awkward while, Aofil catches their eyelids closing just in time. They rub their face. “Where the hell is he?” they wonder out loud. A yawn escapes them, and they sink down further into the chair. The only thing keeping them awake is the fading sniffles from Asriel. If Sans doesn’t arrive soon Aofil will fall asleep despite it being the last thing they want to do. They gotta keep themselves occupied, but how?

Well, there’s Asriel. Aofil opens their eyes again and glance over to him. “So,” they start, “you’re a prince?”

No answer.

“Look, what I said, well yeah, I meant it, but it wasn’t really meant at you. Not the you that’s now, but the you that was before. The Asriel that’s gonna pave the wave for the future is you, I just had to scare away the Asriel that was still stuck with Chara, and Flowey, get it?”

Aofil’s way more tired than they thought they were. They don’t even understand what they said themselves. How is it gonna convince Asriel?

“Listen,” Aofil quells a yawn, “here’s the thing, just smile and don’t talk about Chara, alright? I’m sorry I rough handed you. I’m tempted to say that it was my curse, but that wouldn’t really change the fact that I did. So again, I’m sorry.”

No answer, just sobs.

“Do you know how we split, by the way? I remember holding your soul in my hands,” Aofil cups their hands as they remember doing, “I focused on you, somehow, and then, poof,” Aofil throws out their arms. Their balance on the chair shifts, and a leg breaks. They fall down and land on their back.“So yeah,” they tilt their neck down over their chest, “you have any clue?”

No answer.

Aofil’s head slams back down on the grass, staring at the stars above. Their eyes dart around the sky with no real purpose besides staying busy. “One day you’ll be bored looking up at these, Asriel. I think that day will be a good indication that you’ve adapted to the Surface.”

No answer, just silence. Silence so loud that Aofil can’t hear themselves shouting to stay awake.

“aof!”

Aofil jolts awake with a frightened gasp.

“where’s asriel?”

Is he gone? No! No, he can’t be. Aofil looks around desperately, their neck hurts in the process, but they find Asriel laying in the same place, still sobbing. Aofil sighs in relief, but on the upside they feel that their heart is now racing. Should wake them up somewhat. They direct Sans to Asriel with their finger, and he drags Aofil along.

“you better have a damn good reason for pulling that stunt of yours!”

Aofil massages their eyes awake. “Yeah, sure,” they answer without really hearing the question.

Sans wraps his hand around Aofil’s wrist, and grabs hold of Asriel. A second later the chilly night air is replaced with the comforting warmth and smell of home.

As the wind fades a loud and jarring smash scares Aofil a bit more awake. They see Toriel and Asgore staring at them. With a weary hand and smile they present Asriel to them.

“No,” Asgore whispers.

OK, now Aofil is definitely awake.


	31. A future left behind

"Mom? Dad?"

The questions bounce around the room, fading into the wooden walls as the silence deafens it. Asriel’s smile shines like the brightest of midday suns as he holds his breath for his parents to realize that it’s him. He waits for them to welcome him back, but they’re still. He perks his ears towards them, but there’s no answer.

Toriel and Asgore don't move, they can't move. Asriel’s eyes switch from one to the other, but he just petrifies them further. “Mom?” His muzzle starts shaking as she stares at him with her mouth bent in panic and despair. “Dad?” he asks with a quivering and desperate bleat. He looks at them in fear as he recognizes the dread in their eyes. It’s the same way they looked at him as he begged for them to help him, begged for them to save him. He didn’t want to die, he was so scared. They looked at him with the same sorrow that’s piercing him now. Straight through him, but why? He’s not fading away, can’t they see that! He’s back, he’s alive again. He’s been saved, just like them he’s saved. He’s no longer a memory, he’s no longer a flower. Despite everything, he’s him again, and despite everything, he’s with them again. They are a family again! So why don’t they answer him? He takes a step towards them, and they both recoil.

Seeing his parents flinch in fear, Asriel freezes in place. He looks at them again pleadingly, but it only scares them more. He takes another step, but this time he’s stopped.

“No,” Asgore whispers again. “It cannot be. How?” His voice is distant and hollow. The king that could topple mountains with his voice can’t muster enough strength to harm a fly. He struggles to even process what he’s seeing. “Asriel? Is it you? What’s happened to you?”

Asriel cries in agony as he falls to the ground. He looks at his wounds, and cups his hand under them. A stream of dust falls into his hands and he snaps his head towards his parents. “Mom! Dad!” he cries with a voice that scares him. It’s not his, but it’s just as terrified as he is. At his knees lies Chara's corpse. He doesn't have the strength to carry their best friend any longer!

With a careful hand Toriel navigates her way around the table, pushing the chairs away from her carefully. “My child,” she mouths, not having enough strength to speak. He’s injured, she must help him. She summons her entire being to help him, but it’s to no use. Asriel stops shaking for a second as he realizes why his mother’s eyes has become as distant as the horizon on the Surface that he just came back from. He tries to ask her for help, but it hurts too much. Again he cries as he feels more and more of him fade away.

Toriel can’t help him. She can’t help her own son. He’s in pain, and she can’t do anything to help him. She’s failed him, and because of that she’ll never see him again. She wants to heal him. She’s the Queen, she should be strong enough to heal him, but more importantly, she is his mother! Her efforts pains him just as much as it pains her. He looks at her with her own eyes, and she sees herself in the torrent of tears streaming down his cheeks. He begs for her to save him. Her son, her everything, is fading away in front of her eyes. She doesn’t have enough strength to hide her own tears, but she has too. She can’t allow herself to terrify him more than he already is. Gently, and with the warmest smile she can summon, she sinks down on her knees in front of Asriel to meet his head with hers, and with a comforting yet fearful hand she lets Asriel terrified cheek sink into her palm.

Her hand twitches down so it can catch whatever dust it can from his fading body, but it catches something solid instead. A familiar weight falls into her hand. The soft fur sways against her hand as it bounces gently against it and finally settling itself peacefully as it did so long ago. The feeling travels up her arm and throughout her body. A haze fades from her head as she realizes. This isn’t his dust, this is him! Her entire being sinks down in relief and her face struggles to find the right emotion. She wants to weep, but she also knows it can’t. She’s a mother again, and she has to be strong for her child. She can’t show her fear, not when they both know that he’s dying. She feels herself getting lost in the haze again.

“No!” she shouts angrily, shaking her head to try and scare it away again. She’s not in the Underground! She’s on the Surface, the Barrier has been broken, and in her hand, weighing down on her, is her child! She had almost forgotten it, the shape of his skull, and the small and smooth horns that tickles her when she runs her thumb over it. She finally looks down and meets the eyes that look just like hers, this time they’re not begging for her to save him, they’re begging for her to open her own. She has to do it, for him.

“Asriel,” she whispers before embracing him and pulling him against her forcefully yet with care that towers above it. Once he’s safely against her, once she finally feel her own son against her, she falls over. With a wail that’s just as hopeful as it is sorrowful she burrows her face into his back. “My child!” she cries out. The grief and pain in her voice sweeps the large house like a tidal wave. She throws the blue and battered jacket away and wraps Asriel in her robe. She looks at him again, and another pained howl fills the room. “My child! Asriel!”

A large hand is placed on her shoulder, and she tenses up. Her head shoots up to meet Asgore’s. She meets his eyes with her own deeply conflicting ones. Hatred burns within her, but she senses that there’s hope as well. If Asriel is back, then could she do the impossible as well?

Asgore slowly lowers himself down to Toriel, and with his other hand he tilts Asriel’s head towards him. He tries to smile, but it fails. He tries to cry, but it fails. He runs his hand underneath Asriel, and lifts him up to him. Asgore places his forehead against Asriel’s, and collapses in tears.

He drags Toriel’s shoulder closer hesitantly. She tenses it against his hand at first, but eventually she allows him. Asgore’s arm wraps around her like a shield, protecting her and his son from anyone that would take them away from him again.

“My son,” he cries softly. “My child,” he repeats in tandem with Toriel. With another warm squeeze he drags them closer to him. The small horns on Asriel’s head pokes him in his chest, and Asgore’s eyes shoot wide open. His face becomes distant, causing both Toriel and Asriel to stare in frightened suspense.

His arms loosens from them as he stares at his hands. He tries to stand up, but his legs fail him. He stumbles down on the sofa next to him, crushing it in the process. The loud and jarring crash doesn’t connect with him. His head disappears into his quivering hands. “The kids,” he breathes out with a whimper. “The slaughter.” His face twists as he realizes what this means. “My sins. Everything I did, all those lives lost. They-” he tries to swallow his contempt for himself, but it has the opposite effect. “All for nothing!” he roars. The entire room covers their ringing ears as Asgore’s breath quickens in terror.

He blinks, and finds himself in his throne room again. The flowers around him are stained with blood, and his trident is tugging in his hand. At the end of it is a small human child, the fifth soul, struggling to breathe its last. The face is twisted in pain and horrific panic. It stares back at him with eyes praying for him to undo what he just did. A snake of blood slithers down his hand. It’s warm to the touch, and settles comfortably in his hand. The trident stops moving, and the body on the other end as well. One less to wait for. The room is filled with a colorful light that forces him to avert his eyes. It’s too bright, both for his eyes, and for his conscience. He knows it’s awful, he knows it’s wrong, but he has to do it. He made a promise, to his son.

Asgore looks down at the crimson fur on his hand. It’s heavy, so heavy. He closes his palm, and a small whimper catches his ears. He looks up again at the still human, and the soul above it. He reaches out for it, he can’t let it escape, but his hand doesn’t follow. It yanks him back onto the sofa. He looks down at it again, and sees another hand in his. It’s small, and it’s in pain. He moves his eyes up the arm, finally reaching the same eyes his wife have. Another whimper catches his ears again, but this time there’s a word attached to it. “Dad?” the whimper asks carefully.

“Asriel, is that really you?” Asgore asks back, but he fears the answer. Is his son really back? After all the killing, all the blood on his hand. The only thing Asgore had against his sins, the one thing he could say to himself that because of it, everything was justified, that reason is now standing in front of him. The same sadness that triggered his vengeance is standing there, alive. The reason he swore to kill, the reason he swore slaughter upon the humans, has been brought back to him.

As innocent as the day he was born, Asriel smiles happily to his father. “Yes,” he sobs happily, drying a tear from his eye. “It’s me, dad.”

Asgore flinches as his sins sink their claws into his back. His only reasons is gone, and only he’s to blame.

He collapses on his knees as the pain saps all of his energy. The soul above the lifeless doll that was just recently a human is violently trying to hold itself together. Asgore clenches his bloodied hands. He’s not doing this for his son anymore, he’s killing without a reason. No king does that! Hope isn’t born out of death! What king treats guests to his realm with death? The haze envelops his mind, and the screams of the children he barely held out against now overwhelms him with their song of sorrow and hate.

“Dad!” Asriel bleats with all his might, “Dad, I’m here!” but no effect. A careful and calming hand places itself on Asriel’s shoulder. He turns around and is pushed away ever so gently by Toriel. She cups Asgore’s chin in her hands and tilts it up to her face. Her nose touches his, and she drags him closer to her.

“Asgore,” she whispers. “I’m ready.”

His face and body turns into stone as the quiet words make their way through the screams. Like a siren piercing its way through the mist he follows the source. Eventually he sees it, kneeling right in front of him. It’s his heart, his love, his queen, his half that will always be better than him.

She smiles at him. “I’m ready for a new chapter, Asgore.”

The haze parts away from Asgore, and the shining rays of his wife’s smile warms his face. He puts a hand on her cheek, and she leans into it. He looks down at his son, who embraces them both. He sinks down with them, and they all weep for, and with, each other.

Sans motions for Alphys and Undyne to leave through the kitchen, and beckons for Aofil and Frisk to follow him. As they turn into the hallway the floor underneath Aofil creaks, and it catches Asriel’s ear. He swirls it around. “Frisk!” he yells as he shakes his ear off his muzzle.

They turn around to see the three boss monsters holding their arms wide open for them, and with a congratulatory nod from Aofil, and after giving them a quick but firm hug, Frisk dives into their new family’s embrace.

Aofil enjoys the spectacle for a while. Frisk waves for them to join, but Aofil puts up a hand in refusal, “Sorry,” before rounding the corner into the hallway. "I can't."

“i’m going to grillby’s to celebrate,” Sans informs with the same low key tone to his voice as always. “care to join, aof? i’m sure we can figure out a way to take what you ordered off of my tab.”

“No, I’m heading for bed. Got a long day tomorrow.”

They make their way up the stairs only to meet Sans and a small breeze. “i was only joking, you know? i’d treat you to mtt if i had the stomach for it,” Sans runs a finger across his ribs, “but, you know.”

Aofil ignores him and closes the bedroom door behind them. The springs in their bed squeak as Sans shortcuts on it. “aof, seriously.”

“I am. Get off my bed, Sans.”

“could you at least spare time for a water sausage?”

Aofil furrows their brow in angered exhaustion. “Sans.”

“no,” he states sternly. “we’re celebrating you saving us.”

Aofil rubs their forehead tiredly. “Sans, I’m moving tomorrow.”

Sans blinks, “oh,” and despite it being permanent on him, his smile fades in spirit, “um, closer to us? i know that there’s a house vacant near us. not talking about the one undyne burned down, just to be clear.”

“I’m moving away, Sans,” Aofil sighs. “Away from all of this. If Asriel didn’t fix their memories then me leaving is the next best thing for them, and the first best thing for me. I can’t be around you, not anymore. Heck, I never really could.”

“could you at least sleep on it, aof?” Aofil throws their hand against him. “oh,” he realizes, and jumps down from the bed. His hand rests on the doorknob as Aofil slips in under their cover. “i’ll have the tea ready for you when you wake up.”

He only gets a weak hum as an answer, but he still nods with it. ”good.”

He stops the door just as it’s about to close behind him and looks over his shoulder. “i’ll tell the others not to bother you, sounds good?”

Aofil turns on their side with their back against Sans.

“take care, aofil.”

The door is closed silently.

Aofil opens their eyes to silence. With a tired hand they rub the intense morning sun that woke them up out of their eyes with their hand. It feels a bit weird. They grab it with their other with a dreaded gasp, but they discover that it was only their cover sticking to it. With a relieved sigh they scratch their head, only to find strands of white fur as they bring it back before them. They quickly grab a tuft from their hair and rip it out. Breathing heavily against the pain, they inspect the hairs in their hand. It doesn’t feel like fur, and it’s not white. Aofil exhales and falls back onto their pillow. They stare at the ceiling for a while. The sun is bathing their bedroom in intense light, so Aofil puts their other arm over their face, and sneeze as it tickles their nose.

With a grumble they dry it off with their arm, only to have it disturbed again. They sneeze again, and to their complete dismay they find the reason for it. On their arm, where it was broken, is a patch of glistening white fur. It runs the length of their forearm.

“Goddammit,” they groan as they let the arm fall down heavily on the bed. “God fucking dammit.”

Aofil shakes their head, this is not what they needed right now. As they swing their legs over the edge of the bed they spot a purple sweater hanging over a chair. They try to instantly forget what they just saw, and head for the door.

They grab the doorknob, but it was already open. Their head turns back to the sweater, and then the white strands of fur on their bed. “Goddammit,” they repeat to themselves.

The silent husk of their hairdryer is still on their bathroom sink. Aofil hoists it up by the cable and tosses it in the bin where it lands with a unglamarous crash. They retrieve a pair scissors from the cabinet underneath the sink and with their arm over the toilet they cut as much fur away as possible. They hope that it’s just a one time thing, but they don’t believe it.

Once downstairs and inside their kitchen Aofil finds their kettle hovering delicately on top of a small flame. It disperses as Aofil grabs the handle. They know what’s inside the kettle, they could’ve guessed even without the sweet and sour smell rising from it.

It takes some effort, but Aofil finally manages to scrape out both the smell and taste from the kettle. They fill it with water again and place it on their stove. As it heats up they walk over to their phone. They dial the number, and after just one tone it connects. “Mt. Ebott real estate,” answers the other end.

Disturbed gravel wakes Aofil from their thoughts. They straighten themselves on the bench as another one joins them. “Child.”

“Forgive me, but I’m not in the mood, father,” Aofil responds distantly. Yesterday's morning is still swimming inside their head.

The pastor nods. “Then I’ll tend to the others.” He places a hand on Aofil’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about your family though, they’ll be here whenever you want to visit.”

Aofil nods absently, and barely notices the pastor leaving. Good thing he did though, Aofil has enough to deal within a minute, they don’t need the pastor to be here as well. It’s only a matter of time before he realizes as well, but the later the better. Hopefully by then Asgore can manage to spin it in his favor.

Or something. Aofil's not sure anymore.

They pat their side pocket and straighten themselves further. A letter made out of lead is in their pocket, but this time they wrote it themselves. It was a bit awkward writing with a pair of gloves on, but again, it’s better for all if Asgore can figure out a way to minimize the damage. The damage has to be done though, otherwise it will end worse than what happened before.

Has it already ended worse than before? Aofil can’t tell, honestly. They also feel the fur stubble on their arm grind against their long sleeve as they again readjusts themselves on the bench.

Aofil sighs. “Goddammit.”

The gravel path is not long after disturbed again. It’s from more than one pair of footsteps this time. Aofil stands up to meet the Dreemurrs, all four of them.

With tears in her eyes and with her hands concealing a beaming smile, Toriel waves to Aofil. They return it weakly. She removes her hands from her mouth and onto her chest. “Aofil,” she starts, but Aofil stops her. They bend over and dust off the tombstone next to them. They know that they threatened Asriel if he were to talk about them, and that it is unfair of Aofil to go ahead and do this, but they have to.

“These were Chara’s parents,” Aofil informs. “I figured you should know.”

And with that Aofil turns on their heel. Toriel or Asgore will figure out soon enough, so Aofil should get some distance while they can.

The iron gate squeaks as Aofil closes it behind them. A second later they hear their name being called. Their last name as well.

But nobody will come.

Aofil enters the taxi they came with. The driver closes her book and tilts the mirror to see Aofil. “We going?”

Aofil nods as they look out the passenger window. They see the Dreemurrs, and their heartache. Aofil doesn’t feel anything though, not anymore.

“That the monsters?” the driver asks. “Weird seeing them at the graveyard, did you meet them?”

“No.”

“Hm. I tell you, it’s gonna be interesting with them around from now.”

Aofil loses sight of them as the taxi turns onto the main road.

“Yeah, sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> And here we leave the story for the time being. Thank you very much for reading and following along. There's more to explore, so please join me for the[ third installment](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11214165/chapters/25052076) of the One Falls anthology.
> 
> If you want, the One Falls anthology has a channel in the [Fanfic Paradise Discord server.](https://discord.gg/sXVXy7w) I frequent it daily, so if you fancy, feel free to join. Be seeing you there!


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